


Gotham Regulars

by redboard



Series: The Gotham Regulars [1]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, DCU (Comics)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Batboys are all kids, Best Friends, Canon-Typical Violence, Crime Fighting, Damian is complicated, Dick Grayson-centric, Friendship Meetcute, Gen, Jason Todd-centric, Kid Logic, Meddling Kids, POV Alternating, Tim Drake-centric, coming of age?, if that’s a thing, if you can call it that, no one is Robin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-08
Updated: 2020-04-04
Packaged: 2020-04-23 01:24:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 24
Words: 83,290
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19140775
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/redboard/pseuds/redboard
Summary: There was a circus, there was a fall, there was a boy and there was a bat. It’s a story everyone knows. But there’s a few details in that story that are wrong. It wasn’t just one boy, for starters.Therewasa circusanda fall. Everything that came after is a bit more complicated.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> A few notes before you go in?  
> The batboys all have around the same age, im reluctant to say their exact age difference since its not really relevant, theyre just kids.  
> Also, ive been watching a lot of late 90s early 00s live action kid movies (Holes, Home Alone, Spy Kids, Shark Boy and Lava Girl, Stuart Little...) so thats gonna get in there sometimes.  
> Ive written ahead a few chapters So Well See How This Goes.

Gotham City was a city of black and white, rich in arts and architecture, with skyscrapers so tall they seemed to disappear into the dark clouds. Clouds that were nothing but smog, and they spoke volumes of the futile efforts the city went through to ignore its foundation on corruption, crime and poverty that threatened to swallow the lowest areas of the city.

Crime Alley was the lowest of the lowest, although that didn’t use to be the case before. It had seen better days as Park Row, but now only the most desperate would cross its cracked concrete street. Crime Alley was an “everyone for themselves” kind of environment.

Even with all of this and despite it, the circus paraded through this street.

It had started with just a tune at first, there was a faint sound of music even before its source became visible. It was rhythmic and energetic, a sound that could only come from a marching band. The melody of trombones, trumpets and drums; sometimes a cymbal rang out, sharp and loud. Marching bands were something you’d expect to see in Star City, never Gotham.

Then, the first cart rounded the corner.

The street went quiet—with the exemption of the music, which had grown slight louder—peoples attention captured by the strange colorful sight that had suddenly burst against the dull gray of Gotham City’s streets.

The cart was pulled by two horses, adorned with feathers and beads, their backs covered with patterned fabrics of gold, reds and purples. Atop the cart was a portly looking man reigning the horses; he had a long handlebar mustache and he was dressed in a red suit and a hat straight from the early 1900s. He seemed to be bobbing to the beat of the music as he slowly led the horses down the street.

The street urchins poking their heads out of darkened alleys weren’t the only ones taken by this sudden appearance, as by now most people had stopped walking, some store owners together with their clients coming out of the shops to catch a glimpse of the latest disturbance. It was getting rather packed, which was the kind of opportunity Jason Todd never let go to waste.

Jason was just another street urchin, ratty clothes and dirty hair, but where every other kid went to see the latest show, Jason kept his attention on the distracted onlookers. Walking just behind the growing crowd of people, he smiled.

As he did, the street exploded in a shock of color and music when a marching band walked to catch up to that first cart, and several acrobats flipped and jumped around. Their costumes were sparkly and striking, their faces painted in bright tones, their smiles wide, some of them even laughing. Jason sighed. More weirdos, as if the city wasn’t up to capacity.

The first cart wasn’t the only one, as it was followed by several flatbed trucks, carts and trailers. One of the trucks was filled to the brim with clowns, pushing each other around trying to get one to fall. Another cart had a banner that read ‘Samson The Powerful’. It was ridden by a small man handling the horses, who was less flashy than the first, and a hairy man standing on the back, wearing a singlet, flexing his muscles and challenging onlookers to a fight. Jason went out on a limb and guessed that was probably Samson.

Just like that the caravan progressed, a parade of different interesting things. A man juggling sharp-looking sabers, a dapper-looking magician and his flock of white doves, a woman breathing fire, a family of aerialists waving at the crowd and cages upon cages filled with exotic looking animals.

At some point the group of clowns had spilled out of their truck and were now flitting around people, tripping on nothing and handing out flyers to anyone nearby. Jason used this chaos and swiped the wallet off a few distracted men. He went for a third but someone shouted “Hey!”

Now caught red handed, Jason turned to run, and what better way to lose his chasers than run straight towards the chaotic parade. He zigzagged across the clowns, crossing in front of one of the horses pulling a cart. The horse startled and reeled back, to the dismay of the coachman.

Jason tripped backwards away from the beast, falling on his ass. The family of aerialists looked down at him with worry, while the coach hollered to the horses. The younger aerialist, however, was barely containing his laughter. Jason frowned and quickly got up, running towards the other side of the street.

He managed to slip into a dark alley and climbed up a fire escape, though he didn't go too far up. He crouched down and looked for anyone following, but nobody came.

Jason sat on his haunches and looked at his recent haul, he had hit the jackpot. It had never been this easy, so he supposed the distraction helped. He looked back to where the parade was still going and looked at the many signs along the sides of the carts.

Jason had learned how to read on his own, but still it took him a bit of time to decipher the first words written in over-stylized letters: ’Haly’s Circus!’ it read. Jason watched the parade from his perch. He was never one to look a gift horse in the mouth.

* * *

Tim Drake watched from the stairs as his parents scrambled madly about the house in an attempt to prepare for travel. There had been a new find in one of the archeological digs they were responsible for and they just _had_ to go see for themselves, his dad had explained earlier, phone still in his ear.

“Jack! Jack! Where’re the keys?” called Janet from the kitchen, where Tim could hear the clinking of silverware as his mom opened and closed every drawer.

“The keys? What keys?” responded Jack from the master bedroom.

Janet poked her head out. “The _car_ keys, Jack, really!”

“I don’t know, did you check in the bedside table?”

“Of course I checked there, what do you take me for?”

“I don’t know, okay? Check again!”

“This man, honestly.” She noticed Tim sitting at the top of the stairs. “Tim, sweetheart,” she beckoned, “why don’t you help your mom look for the keys? I need to check in for the flight.”

“Okay,” Tim said, putting aside a Rubiks cube he'd been fooling around with and taking the stairs down two at a time. He started looking around, though he didn’t try very hard. His dad always threw his keys carelessly whenever they arrived home from a long trip, so he had a vague idea where they could be. “So, where are you going this time?” he asked with mild interest.

Janet mumbled in acknowledgment, looking intently at her phone as she scrolled, eventually she looked up for a second before returning to her phone, “Oh, the dig in New Mexico, not very far this time, sweetie. We’ll be right over.”

“Is that the one you made dad get?” he asked, looking into a nice marble plate in the cabinet by the entrance; it was supposed to hold keys, but it was empty.

Janet smiled brightly at him. “That’s right, where would your dad be without me?”

Tim couldn’t imagine. As far as he knew, his mom was the smarter one of the two. Tim didn’t understand much about their jobs but he knew that buying this dig had been a very big deal to his mom.

He looked under the cabinet. There were the car keys; probably fallen there as his dad wasn’t the best shot. “Found them!” He said after fishing them out.

“And what would _we_ do without _you_!” she smiled, putting her phone away and taking the keys. “Sorry we’re leaving again so soon, kiddo.”

“It’s alright,” said Tim, now looking down at his socks.

Janet put her hand on Tim’s shoulder and lowered herself down to his height. “I’ll show you pictures of what we find when we return, okay?”

“Even if it’s peoples bones?”

Janet grimaced — peoples remains weren’t rare finds in archeological digs, if you include recent ones that is. “Hmmm, we’ll see?”

“Sweet.”

“Hey, what’s all this whispering? You know it’s bad manners!” joked Jack as he exited the master bedroom with heavy looking luggage.

Janet straightened up and smiled sleazily. “Why I was just telling Tim about all of my lovers in Santa Rosa.” Jack went red in the face, his brow scrunched up in anger. “Oh please, Jack, can’t you take a joke?” she scoffed. “We’re late, let’s go.” To Tim she said, “Be good, kid, I know you’re big enough to stay on your own but Mrs. Mac will be checking in on you from time to time, okay?” Tim nodded. “Okay, be good!” She repeated, planting a kiss in his forehead before walking out, snapping her fingers at Jack. “Chop, chop!”

“Right, right, I’ll be just a second,” he said, watching as she closed the door after her. “Wench,” he mumbled, before noticing Tim was looking at him. He cleared his throat and kneeled down in front of Tim. “Hey, bud. Everything good?”

Tim didn’t know what he was asking, so he simply nodded. It was a trick his mom taught him, ‘yessir your way to a promotion’ and ‘men do anything for a nice pair of legs’ though Tim didn’t know what to do with that particular bit of wisdom just yet.

“Good, that’s good,” Jack said, and inwardly Tim thought his mom was a very smart woman indeed. “About us leaving—“

“Mom explained,” Tim hurried to say, he didn’t really want to hear the same spiel twice.

“Right. Did… mom mention anything else?” Jack said, giving Tim a meaningful look, which Tim returned. Jack narrowed his eyes and Tim mirrored him. They did these kinds of games sometimes, Tim thought they were funny, it made him feel like they were conspiring, like spies did in the movies. “Right…” said Jack after a minute of meaningful looks and eye narrowing. “Tell you what, when we return we do something fun. Like go fishing! You always wanted to go fishing right?” He didn’t, but he didn’t get to say so as his dad continued, “Yeah, well go fish, just like grandpa and I used to do back in the day.”

“Jack!” Janet called from outside.

“I’m coming, woman!” Jack sighed, then gave Tim another meaningful look. “Women right?” Tim shrugged. “Alright, see you round, bud.” Jack stood up and looked at Tim, who was looking down, wiggling his toes. Jack sighed, then walked out of the house.

Tim ran towards the window next to the door and waved at his mom who waved at him back from the car, though she stopped to argue about something with his dad. Eventually he watched them turn the corner and the house was silent and empty.

Tim smiled.

* * *

The circus was by no means a comfortable place. It was always crowded and privacy was a concept that just did not exist. For all that the big top seemed to reach the clouds, it was a very cramped living situation. Living in the circus was like living in a large house where the walls are so thin they weren’t even there.

This wasn’t literal though. Living in the circus didn’t exactly mean living in a tent like eternal Boy Scouts. There were plenty of trailers where everyone claimed their little bit of space.

But the thing about the circus was that closeness just came naturally. Eating together, training together, performing together. It eventually bled out into daily routine, where no one was ever actually alone.

So actually, the circus was a comfortable home, it just didn’t seem that way to people outside it. At least thats how Dick Grayson saw it.

Dick was the youngest addition to Haly’s Circus, though he’d lived there for as long as he could remember. It had been only just recently that Haly had allowed him to perform next to his parents. He had worked really hard to be able to perform. He still remembered the thrill of his first show a year ago. The lights, the attention, the matching rhythm of his and his parents movements. It had been perfect, though he almost missed a flip. But all in all it had been the best day in Dick’s life.

He had just finished putting on his costume when he went out of the Graysons’ trailer to look for his parents. The show wasn’t going to start for a few hours, but he wanted to stretch and be ready.

Everyone else was busy doing much of the same, but they all spared a moment to wave at Dick as he made his way through the lot. He took the chance to look at the visitors looking at the different stalls and attractions set up around the big top.

He'd never been in Gotham before, so he was extremely curious. Everyone seemed to dress formally, even though they were visiting the circus. It was strange but still had character, Dick liked it quite a lot, though he could never see himself dressed in such ways. He laughed at that thought; here he was dressed in tights and he found these formal attires amusing.

Many families approached him here and there, noticing the colorful costume. It was a blue leotard with orange-gold details and a white sash tied around his waist. It was eye catching at the very least. He smiled brightly as people asked him for photos.

* * *

Jason looked towards the circus. Its grand opening seemed to be a huge success; the place was packed. All the better for him, though at no point did he delude himself to think his idea had been an original one. He was probably not the only one looking at this herd of fools like sheep, so he was going to keep an eye out, not only for pigs but rats as well.

He stood outside the makeshift wire fence. Inside, in the short distance, people were crowding, looking like tools with their mouths wide open as some clowns walked by or some magician performed some cheap trick. Jason lifted one of the wires and shuffled in. He had better tricks to show them — he called it “the disappearing wallet.”

A few hours later, Jason had started to like the circus. He’d gained a taste for fine Dior, and he never turned his nose up to one or three Rolex watches, though he always got rid of the wallets immediately after taking the money; he still had an eye for taste.

* * *

Tim walked around the busy stalls, keeping his eyes down. His heart beat like crazy and he could feel the heat in his cheeks and ears. He hoisted up the backpack he was carrying to adjust the weight.

The circus was a handful, he thought. People were everywhere and extremely noisy. He wondered where the lion tamers went when they wanted to read books. Or if clowns ever got tired of prancing around and just sat down to play board games. Where would they do that? It was all so strange that it was positively exciting. He almost couldn’t fit in himself.

Tim looked around. Beyond the stalls were the animal cages. He didn’t want to go near them; it didn’t look very safe to him. At the zoo, animals were always so far away it was almost pointless to go—not that he ever said that outloud—but here, the elephants were so close. He imagined a long trunk coiling around him and turning him upside down, shaking him up for spare coins like the bullies on TV. He subconsciously patted his shorts’ pockets, making sure his money was were it belonged. Still, he was fascinated by the animals, pulling up his camera and snapping a few pictures.

He continued walking aimlessly, snapping photos of animals and performers, and before he knew it, he’d arrived to the trailer park. He got more alert, keeping an eye out for clowns playing Monopoly and lion tamers reading Animal Farm. If there was ever a quiet place in the circus, this had to be it.

He craned up his neck looking into the windows of the trailers, though it didn’t achieve much, as they were all tinted. Though he felt like an intruder, he couldn’t help himself but to be curious about these sorts of things. Sighing, he was about to make his way back when, through the fanfare of circus music, he was able to hear whispers.

It was some portly man that looked awfully familiar, he thought. He seemed to be trying to appease some men in masks, probably performers. He knew he wasn't supposed to be in this part of the circus, but still he tried to watch closely without getting caught, taking a few pictures of the big man. It was no Batman, but it was still interesting.

One of the masked men snapped to attention, as if he'd heard something behind him. They seemed to exchange pleasantries and the group stomped away from Haly, walking straight towards Tim. He took that cue to leave the way he'd come.

He ran all the way back to the front of the biggest tent, where he collided with someone, crashing down on the floor unceremoniously.

“Ow,” he groaned, rubbing his leg where had landed. He thought his voice seemed to echo,  before he realized he wasn't the only one down on the ground. “Oh gosh, I'm so sorry!” He hurried to his feet to help the stranger up, who laughed despite the nasty fall. “I'm so, so sorry! I wasn't looking—“

“It's alright, it's alright!” The stranger—who was a brightly dressed boy perhaps a few years older than Tim himself—looked at him with an easy smile. “Are _you_ okay?”

“Oh, yes. I'm alright. Um,” Tim said, still looking at the colorful costume before he realized he'd been staring too much. “Sorry, are you a performer?”

“Thats right!” the boy said proudly.

“Wow… youre so young. I had no idea,” Tim said, with wonder in his eyes, before he blinked and beckoned the boy to come closer. The boy hesitated before leaning in as Tim cupped his hand in front of his face and whispered, “Is this legal? Are you okay?”

The boy blinked at Tim a few times before bursting out laughing. Tim couldn't help the flush of embarrassment flooding over him.

“I'm quite fine! Don't worry!”

Even though he was embarrassed, his curiosity was stronger so Tim cleared his throat before asking “Didn't you run away from home?”

“Run away from home?” The boy guffaws, but his smile grows softer as he sees the earnest look in Tims face. “This is my home. I can't imagine ever leaving.”

“I mean it's quite normal,” Tim shrugged “Every kid thinks about running away from home at least once. There’s probably a study about this. Or, there should be?”

The boy hummed, and looked at Tim again, though Tim didn't know what he was looking for. “Have you?”

“What's that?”

“Are you planning to run away from home?” the boy said, crossing his arms over his chest.

Tim was alarmed by this, looking around frantically to make sure nobody heard. “Whatever gave you that idea! Don't be silly,” he hissed.

“Well, you're carrying a very heavy looking backpack there,” the boy pointed out, “and you're asking a circus performer if he ran away from home. I think it's a fair assessment, don't you think?”

Tim glanced at his backpack. It was bulky, that was true. But it wasn't meant for running away. In fact if he did run away with only this many things he wasn't sure he’d survive out on his own! He'd just been planning to go out and look for Batman after this and going back home for a change of clothes and his gear seemed like a hassle. “No,” he said, returning his attention to the boy in front of him, “I just think its cool you're a performer at your age, it’s admirable,” he said, pronouncing the word slowly. “To tell you the truth I couldn't imagine doing…” he gestured at the costume, “whatever it is you do.”

“I’m Dick of the Flying Graysons, I’m an aerialist,” the boy, Dick, said. He puffed his chest out as Tims eyes widened. Even though he'd never heard of aerialists, but he had a vague guess of what it entailed. “You can come watch if you like, the show's about to start,” he said, pointing at the big tent.

“Right. That'd be cool.” He half turned to go, before he remembered the weight in his neck. “Oh! Can I ask you something?” Dick nodded. “Can we get a picture together?”

“Oh, sure!” Dick said, resting his hands on his hips. “How do you want to do this?”

Tim fidgeted with his camera and looked around. He had brought his tripod but there was no space or time to set it. He spotted a boy walking leisurely nearby, his arms crossed behind his head. Tim walked up to him. “Hey, sorry. Can you take a picture for me?”

The boy smiled politely. “Of course, of course!”

Tim handed over the camera and showed the boy how to work the basic functions then promptly returned to Dicks side. Although he didn’t think they were that much apart in age, Dick was much taller than Tim was. He shook his head, trying to not let it get to him. Though he figured a few gymnastics classes couldn’t hurt.

“Alright, I’m taking it!” the boy said, the only warning before the flash blinded them. “I’m taking another, ‘kay?”

Tim looked at Dick from the corner of his eye. He was smiling for the photo but it didn't seem forced, he was truly happy to be here. What a strange boy, he thought.

“Right, here you go!” the boy said, holding the camera for Tim to take it back.

“Thank you!”

“No problemo! Have a nice day.” the boy said patting Tim and Dick’s shoulders before going on his way.

“I should go too, for the show.” Tim pointed behind him with his thumb after quickly checking the pictures taken.

“Sure! Hey wait! What’s your name?”

”Huh? It’s...” Tim considered for a moment giving him a fake name, but Tim was already a pretty common one, “Tim.”

”I’ll do a special flip, just for you, Tim!” Dick grinned.

Very strange boy indeed, but Tim liked him anyways.


	2. Chapter 2

Dick was waving at Tim’s retreating figure when he heard someone call his name. He turned and was surprised to see Haly trotting towards him, almost out of breath. Haly stopped in front of him and rested his hands on his knees wheezing.

“Haly?” Dick asked, trying to steady the ringmaster, his voice curious. “What's wrong?” Dick looked towards where Haly had come from, where a group of masked men were already retreating. It wasn’t a strange sight though, as there were always people trying to join their troupe.

Haly coughed. “Oh there you are, Dickie my lad! Dont spook me so!” He fetched a handkerchief from his breast pocket and started nervously dabbing the sweat from his face. “Been looking for you everywhere!”

“Well, I’m here, I was just… looking for my parents, is everything alright? Do you need to sit down?” He inspected Haly; he'd never seen him so on edge, not even during the first trial of his Tiger taming act!

Haly shook his hand ‘no’ and swallowed thickly. “Everything’s quite fine, we’re just getting close to first call and you were nowhere to be seen!” He laughed jovially and patted Dick on the back, almost knocking him off of balance. “Remember this is Gotham, my boy, and we've only just got here. You shouldn’t walk around on your own, at least for now...” Dick nodded in agreement. “Now, off with you! The shows to start soon!” Swiping at Dick with his hat, whiffing on purpose.

Dick laughed, ducking away. “Aye!”

Dick ran towards the big top, smiling. There was still something bugging him He had never seen Haly act this way — something must have spooked him. But he could trust Haly. Besides he needed his spirits high for the first show in Gotham City.

* * *

Jason was making his way back after the circus. It had been a profitable day, all in all. He hadn’t yet counted the loot (it was a bad idea to count money on the street, that's how you got robbed) but it was a very sizable amount.

He was about to ditch the last wallet in an alley when he caught the sound of sirens. He instinctively ducked into the alley and watched as two police patrol cars whizzed past in the direction of the circus.

He held tightly his pants pockets from the outside, feeling the days contents’ weight. What he was doing wasn’t wrong, but it didn’t mean other people would see it that way.

He quickly changed direction from his house to his hideout. It wasn’t far from his place, and for some reason no one ever stayed there, even though it had been abandoned for as long as he could remember.

He went in through a hole in the back door, just big enough for him to fit. He walked down a long corridor and finally pushed through some double doors.

Rows upon rows of seats appeared before him, all facing an empty stage in a terrible state of disrepair. The dust sparkled as it floated down from the roof, visible only through beams of light coming from holes in the ceiling.

The curtain was tattered and the smell of dead animal and dust was heavy and rank. It couldn’t compare to its glory days by a long mile, but still Jason found comfort in such a place.

He walked past the seats and towards the stage, ignoring it for the trap room below it. There he found everything just as he had left it the last time.

There were piles of boxes, all precious things he couldn’t keep back home. Some had books — it had taken him a while but he had finally finished _Hamlet_ and was now working through a worn copy of _The Scarlet Letter._

In another box he kept old vinyls he would find in the trash sometimes. He liked them for the album covers mostly, as he had nowhere to play the music in them.

Scattered throughout were small baubles and a few newspaper clippings of word jumbles and coupons.

All in all, they were things no one could know he had. These things were precious to him, and some necessary to survive. He imagined if his mother ever came to them, she would quickly sell them for a small fix. He felt bad for keeping it from her, but it was for the best.

He took the days loot and counted it. They could probably make the rent and pay off some of his moms debt… but barely have much to eat in that case. Jason cursed under his breath.

When he was sure no one was around he creeped back out of the building. He was going to have to make some hard choices.

* * *

Murmurs filled the big top, as people were orderly led out of the tent. Some people lingered for a minute, craning their necks over the crowd of people, trying to get a last look of the grizzly scene, before wincing and looking away.

Tim hadn’t moved since it had happened, his hands holding tightly onto his camera like a lifeline. He didn’t understand what had happened, what had gone wrong. One minute everything was fine and the next—

He looked down towards the stage where other performers were gathering around the police. He did his best to avoid looking at the unmoving forms covered under a white cloth.

He saw as the big man that had been leading the show talked to a red haired man wearing a long tan overcoat who’d come with the police. He looked solemn, his face never betrayed him but even this far away Tim could see the strain and the sadness. He was probably trying to be strong for the sake of the others.

The other performers had gathered around the Graysons, some crying and some holding onto each other. The clowns’ makeup was ruined, the strongman’s shoulders were slumped, the other acrobats were thrown on the floor, crying.  

He noticed some other performers, the ones from before, wearing demonic looking masks; they stayed hidden out of sight. But Tim saw the big man react, just slightly to them— his face crumbled and he walked away from the police man and joined his fellow performers. When Tim returned his gaze, the masked men were nowhere to be found.

“You shouldn’t be here.”  A tall man with dark raven hair and sharp blue eyes stood in front of him, shielding the view of the stage. The looming man, in any other circumstance, would have seem scary almost threatening, but he could see in him what he had seen in the big man. The sadness and the strength to try and keep it in.

“Are they going to be okay?” Tim asked, looking down to his camera. “Is the circus going to be okay?” He couldn't help but worry for Dick’s home.

He noticed the man look towards the gathered performers, then to his side. Tim noticed for the first time a boy, perhaps slightly younger than him. His clothes and his hair were as dark as the man’s but his complexion was darker and his green-blue eyes never left the stage. His expression was sour, like he'd rather be someplace else.

“They have each other,” the man said more to the green eyed boy than Tim, “There’s nothing they can’t get through.” Then he turned to Tim, placing a hand on his shoulders, “Where are your parents, by the way?”

Tim startled “Oh! They—they—I kind of lost sight of them when—“ he started to explain, but was interrupted by a ruckus happening in the ring.

He watched the younger Grayson run out of the tent, many police men trying to catch him. He wanted to follow, to ask him _what happened?_ Or more importantly, if he'd be okay. Before he realized it he was running after him.

* * *

Dick had been running for quite a while now; his mind enraptured in turbulent panic. Things like people, and cars, and buildings, stopped registering as anything other than jagged blurs. His thoughts came to him incomplete, all he knew was to run.

And so he ran. He ran until his lungs couldn’t muster a proper breath and his brow was damp with sweat. It wasn’t until he stopped running that he realized the ache in his legs and the dizziness of uninterrupted motion. He braced himself to a nearby wall and clamped a hand over his mouth, trying not to throw up from exertion.

Once he regained a bit of his breath back he looked around. The sky had turned dark at some point, and the streets were unrecognizable. The small logical part of his mind still functioning properly had told him he shouldn't have strayed so far, it sounded an awful lot like Haly.

He shivered as a particularly cold gust of wind blew past him. He needed to get back to the circus, but he had to admit it; he was completely and utterly lost. He didn't know what he should do now, stay put or try to backtrack. He considered this for a moment before deciding to try walk back the way he came from, he wasn't going to get any more lost after all.

He walked for the better part of an hour and found that he'd been completely wrong. If before he'd been lost, now he was lost in a place where shadows seemed to have shadows. And it was probably his imagination, but he felt that those shadows were watching him. He couldn't help looking over his shoulder over and over again over the most minute shuffle.

A few minutes later he confirmed it, someone was following him. Two men had been walking a few feet behind him, stopping when he stopped, quickening their pace as he did. He didn’t know what to do. He should definitely _not_ stop walking though.

He tried looking around without moving his head too much. The shops were closed and there was almost no one out on the streets. He hugged himself to fight off the cold and the shivers that were overcoming him. He’d had enough of it, he decided, turning on his heel to confront the men.

At that moment someone else, a kid, appeared out of nowhere right in front of him.

“Oh! There you are! I’ve been looking for you everywhere, I have!” Said the boy dramatically, giving Dick a hug he was too shocked to stop. The boy whispered to his ear “Run.” And before Dick could realize what was happening, the boy had grabbed his wrist and started running, pulling Dick with him.

Dick ran with the boy, looking back to the men as they attempted to pursue them for a little before giving up with sour looks in their faces. Dick couldn’t help but laugh of exhilaration, the adrenaline flowing through him. This was familiar, _this_ he could handle. He laughed, and laughed, and laughed, not caring about the odd look the other boy was shooting at him as they ran.

Eventually they stopped in a more lit street corner. Dick was wheezing and gasping, tears streaming down his face as the last remnants of his laughter started dying down. He stood there, bracing himself on his knees, breathing. He looked up at the boy who’d saved him and grinned at him. The boy scrunched up his face in disgust, which only made Dick smile wider.

“Thanks,” Dick said, straightening up.

“Don’t thank me,” the boy grumbled, “I just couldn’t handle watching how pathetic you were.” He scuffed his shoes on the pavement.

Dick didn’t believe that, but he didn’t argue with him. “Well I thought it was very brave nonetheless.”

“Brave? Brave’s walking ‘round these parts at this time of day wearing nothing but tights. I’ve heard of running to the circus, but running from the circus? That’s a new one.”

“First off,” Dick huffed, “it’s called a leotard.” He presented it with a flourish, everyone always got it wrong. “Second, why does everyone keep saying that? Seriously no ones running away to join the circus anymore! Wait,” he blinked, “wait! You know where the circus is?”

“Dunno, depends.”

Dick took that as a yes. “Please, please, please!” He clasped his hands together. “Show me where it is, I… kind of got lost.”

“Sounds like an understatement.”

“Please!”

“What’s in it for me?”

“Huh?” Dick blinked, lowering his hands. This guy was way more difficult than he thought. “I don’t know… what do you want? Money? I don’t have money on me, these things don’t have pockets.” He said patting his hips a few times to prove his point.

“Nah… not money, got that myself.” The boy squinted, examining Dick carefully. The boys eyes were sharp blue needles hiding behind a curtain of dark brown locks. Dick stiffened under the weight of those eyes. He felt an itch under his chin but for some reason he couldn’t make himself scratch it.

Right as the boy opened his mouth to speak, Dicks stomach betrayed him with a loud growl. He couldn’t help blushing from embarrassment. The boy gave him a bored look and sighed, “Come on, there’s a reasonably good diner nearby.”

Dick watched the back of the boy as he walked away “Need I remind you about the pockets?” He said, walking in a haste to catch up to him.

The boy simply looked over his shoulder with an easy smile “Don’t worry about it, a friend of mine is paying tonight. Now come on, I don’t got all day.”

* * *

Tim walked through his front door, kicking off his shoes and lugging off his backpack to a corner. He sighed. Not only had he lost sight of Dick Grayson almost immediately, but he must have also dropped his wallet somewhere.

Thankfully he always kept emergency cash stashed away all over his person. Still, it had been a hefty amount that he’d been planning on using it to buy supplies.

He looked at the clock on the wall, 1 AM. That was the icing of the cake, looking for Dick had taken time from his ‘bat watching’ time. Truly it hadn’t been his luckiest day, he thought as he made himself Kool-aid before going to bed.

His mom wouldn’t approve of it, which is why he only indulged in it when his parents were away. He absently wondered what his parents where up to. _Probably cool things_ , he decided bitterly.

He’d been eight when he learned that their jobs were actually nothing like in the Indiana Jones movies, which had been a huge disappointment; but still they got to see bones and old stuff which was pretty cool. Though, he also got to see that when his parents left, he thought wryly as he pushed aside one of Mrs. Macs tupper dinners to get to the Easy Cheese.

He grabbed a few slices of bread and sat on the kitchen counter. He ‘cheesed’ the bread generously and after a moment of consideration he pointed the can to his mouth and sprayed some of the melted cheese directly into it.

His parents would freak if they knew what he got up to when they’re not around. Not only the indulgence of junk food, but the ‘bat watching’ too. Specially the bat watching. Not to mention he watched as the Graysons plummeted to their deaths just a few hours ago…

He winced as the memory returned. He suddenly lost his appetite.

Tim shook his head and got off the counter, he quickly disposed of the sandwich and poured the drink down the drain. He ran to his bedroom, grabbing his backpack on the way, he wasn’t in the mindset to do the dishes for now.

He entered his room and went into his private bathroom. There were three bathrooms in this house, one in his parents bedroom, one in his room and one downstairs, for company. Of course, his parents never even noticed he always used the guest bathroom for its intended purpose. That was because he had turned the one in his bedroom into a makeshift darkroom.

He flipped the light on and instead of a bright white light, a dim red light welcomed him, the red cellophane tinting the room into a bloody shade. He walked to his bathtub and started preparing the chemicals he needed to reveal yesterday’s photographs.

As far as distractions went, this was one of his favorites.

* * *

 

Jason walked out of the bathroom, drying his hands with his jacket. He hated those blow dryers, they were useless and yet people kept buying them. He looked around the diner and easily found the boy he’d come in with, sitting in a booth in a far away corner.

It was really hard to miss him, actually. Not counting the incredibly conspicuous way he was dressed, he was holding up the menu to his face to badly cover the way he kept looking about suspiciously.

Jason sighed and heard someone chuckle. He glared at a girl behind the counter. She was a waitress, blonde and pretty, her hair tied in pigtails under her uniform hat. She had stopped every pretense she had to have been cleaning to look at Jason with a mocking grin.

“Y’know Jay, I always knew you were the sort to give food to stray cats, but you really outdid yourself this time.” She chuckled, leaning forward to rest her chin on her hands.

“Mind your own business, Buffy.”

“Where’d you get this one from anyways? Ask for a little brother from Santa?”

“Shut up, like I’d tell you.”

“You’re so mean to me, Jay!” She pouted, but her smile was back quickly. “Be right there with you guys, kay? You guys just be thankful me and the mister back there were still open!” She said, pointing in the general direction of the kitchen.

This time Jason smiled.”Thanks,” he said. He liked this diner, though he didn’t frequent it much. It was one of the few places this side of the city where he didn’t feel like he had to be on guard. Speaking of, he caught sight of the boy poking his head out of the menu again, swiveling it in every direction.

He approached the booth and took off his jacket, throwing it at the boy who squeaked in surprise. “Cover yourself, have some dignity.” He said as he slid into his side of the booth, facing the other boy.

He frowned without much anger “In not ashamed of what I’m wearing.”

“Well, have you ever considered how _I_ feel? Think about my reputation. ‘Sides it’s cold or whatever. Just put it on, will ya?”

The boy opened his mouth to protest more but seemed to decide against it in the end. He shrugged on Jason’s jacket.

“You decided what to eat yet?”

“No, I was waiting for you.” He blushed for some reason.

“Does it have anything to do with the fact that you were looking around like a meerkat?”

He blushed harder “Not at all!”

“You know, no ones gonna do anything to you while we’re in here, I already told you this.”

“I _told_ you, it isn’t that.” He looked around the diner again “I’ve just, never been in Gotham before, it’s all just so, interesting. I don’t get tired of looking.” He said, his eyes sparkling with something Jason didn’t quite understand. “It’s like Gotham is in a bubble trapped in the past, it’s so oddly consistent with itself. It’s nothing like Metropolis or Star City.”

Jason nodded then slid one of the menus towards himself. He opened it and started looking at the options with mild interest. He couldn’t look at this boys open amazement directly for much longer “Been around a lot have you?”

“Yeah, we’ve been almost everywhere, it’s a touring circus after all. We’ve been in San Francisco and Metropolis the most, almost 6 or 7 times.” He said, running his finger on the table as he listed the different locations. “We’ve just finished in Ivy Town, our third time there. It’s our first time here in Gotham though.”

“You guys ready to order?” Said Buffy as she approached them. The boy startled and scrambled to look at the menu. Jason put his hand on his menu and took it from him. He handed both to Buffy and said “Just two burgers and milkshake specials. You can eat burgers right? Or are you on some sort of diet?”

“I can eat.” He said frowning.

Buffy hummed. “What flavor milkshake? We got the classics, chocolate and strawberry…” she said, then leaned into the boys personal space “but you can also try out the new syrup one I made. It’s so sweet you’ll love it.”

The boy looked at Jason cautiously and Jason subtly shook his head ‘no’.

He frowned then smiled at Buffy “Uh, yeah, actually, I’d love that.” Jason sighed.

“Lovely!” She spring back “I’ll bring them for you right quick.” She turned and mouthed something at Jason that looked like ‘I like him’. He rolled his eyes.

After she left the boy crossed his arms “You didn’t have to order for me, I could have chosen by myself,” he said.

“Just a few minutes ago you didn’t want me to spend money giving you food.”

“Well, that was a few minutes ago, I’ve made peace with it already.”

“Listen, you—”

“Dick.”

“Hey, no need for name calling. I’m charitable and you cuss me? Where’s your manners? You get raised in a circus or something? Oh, wait!” Jason mock slapped his forehead.

“No, you _dumbass_ , Dicks _my_ name.” He said, reaching over the table to slap Jason in the arm lightly. “I’ll have you know the circus isn’t as bad as people put it all the time, that’s very narrow minded. Just because I’m homeschooled doesn’t mean I’m stupid. Yknow, a lot of Hollywood actors—“

“Alright, alright! Geez! I take it back.”

They sat in silence for a moment, Dick was looking everywhere but at Jason. Eventually Buffy returned. “Two burgers, two milkshake _and_ some fries,” she winked “on the house. If y’all need something just holler, I’ll be right over!”

They thanked her and started eating quietly. Jason rolled his eyes when he watched as Dick tried Buffy’s special syrup milkshake and had a full body cringe. He felt the need to say ‘I told you so’ but took pity on him, he’d fallen for that one too after all.

He grabbed Dicks drink and swapped it with his. He sipped it before Dick could argue and was actually proud that he was able to keep a straight face the entire time. This was entirely made of sugar, like if they’d made a black licorice slurpee in the presence of a nervous cow. That cow was right to be nervous, it was an affront to god.

Dick gave him half a smile and continued eating.

“You really like the circus, huh?” Jason said conversationally. He dipped a few fries on the shake.

“I do, it’s my home.”

“Can’t imagine being that attached to a place myself. Lord knows I’d leave my dump any time at my first opportunity.”

Dick held his half eaten burger and looked at it, though he didn’t seem to be quite _seeing_ it. “It’s not really the circus as a _place,_ ” he said after a moment, placing the burger down on the plate, he turned to look at Jason “it’s the people. They’re my family.”

Jason hummed “Then why’d you run away?”

“I didn’t! I don’t know what came over me.” He looked away “My parents, they… there was an accident… I couldn’t do anything, no one could and I… My gut told me to run and when nothing else makes sense I just listen to it.”

Jason could understand that feeling too well. He didn’t think there was anything he could say to Dick to make him feel better though, nor did he think Dick was asking for it. All he could do was listen.

“Looking back I realize it was stupid of me to run, everyone must be so worried.” Dick hugged himself “Haly always tells us not to go out on our own in new cities--even more so this time, he was very adamant--but I just couldn’t be there.” He felt silent.

Eventually Jason said “Well, this Haly guy had it right, Gotham’s dangerous, specially for outsiders, you’re damn lucky you’re in one piece.”

“Thank you, again,” Dick smiled at him “for helping me.”

Jason waved it away “Whatever. Still, I can’t take you there yet. It’s late and walking around that far would mean trouble. I’ll take you tomorrow morning. I got somewhere nearby where you can stay.”

“You guys need anything?” Said Buffy walking up to their booth.

“We’re good, just the check, and if you could pack these.” Said Jason, pushing their plates towards her. He hadn't even attempted to finish the hell milkshake.

“Sure will!” She ripped a paper off her notes and placed it on the table before gathering the plates.

Dick and Jason got up and Jason walked towards Dick, he rummaged into one of his jackets pockets and fished out a wallet. “I’ll pay, you go get the food.”

Dick nodded and walked towards Buffy, they chatted a bit as she put the food in containers, they seemed to hit it off well.

Jason opened the wallet and took out the money, he counted enough for the check and a hefty tip and pocketed the rest, “Thank you very much,” he said, throwing the wallet to one of the seats where it bounced and fell on the floor.

“Have a good night, you guys!” Said Buffy cheerfully as they left the diner.


	3. Chapter 3

Tim woke up with a start for the fourth time that morning. He was hugging a pillow, one hand holding the remote loosely. 

He looked dazedly around the room, daylight was streaming in through the windows and the tv was playing the news loudly, showing his failed attempt to stay awake. He quickly turned the volume down and squinted back at the tv; realizing then that his glasses had fallen off at some point. 

He bent over and rummaged around under the sofa without looking. He felt the glasses with his fingers and grabbed them, placing them back on his face. One lense had a clear fingerprint on it and a strand of hair was curled around the brim, but they were perfectly functional. He only wore them when he was home anyways. He looked at the corner of the tv, 6:34 AM. 

He got off the sofa with a yawn and scratched his cheek as he made a quick trip to the bathroom. He stood in front of the mirror for a few moments feeling like he was missing something, until his brain caught up with him. He chuckled to himself and left the bathroom, walking upstairs to get to his room.

Now in the correct bathroom, he checked the strip of film he had hanging on a cord. He took it and walked out, grabbing a pair of scissors on the way.

He went to the kitchen and looked glumly at the dishes in the sink, then walked past them. He opened the fridge and pulled out a juice box and closed the door with his hip. He placed everything on the counter before grabbing a clean bowl and some cereal.

It was a new cereal this week: Bat-flakes. They had little marshmallows shaped like bat-signals. He didn’t usually eat cereal on its own but it was important to judge it with and without milk for his Batman GeoCities website. Last weeks cereal had been one of the best this month, “BatCave-ties”, really sweet and it came with a batarang toy, which was pretty cool though nowhere near as cool as the real deal. Still, it was going the be hard to beat that.

He sat on one of the swivel chairs, poured the cereal on the bowl and punched open the juice box with the straw. From here he could see the tv, the volume still high enough to hear from this distance. The news anchor was joking around with the weather guy. The sound was nice to fill the silence. He took a bite of the cereal and thought it was a bit dull. 

As he ate he set out to work, carefully cutting the film in equally sized smaller strips. There was nothing much happening but the tv and the sound of the snipping. It was soothing. He could never keep still for too long, which was a problem when he attended to social functions with his parents. He needed to busy himself all the time. This was just one of many ways he did so.

He checked one of the strips in the light. He could see the city skyline, and, to the untrained eye, that’s all they would look like, but Tim knew where to look and found Batman in every single frame. In some he was far away or merely a shadowy blur, but in others the Dark Knight was in plain view.

He checked a different strip. This one had pictures of the circus, so they were more recent. Kids holding candy floss, a magician flipping her cards, a group of clowns. It had been a pretty good circus.

As he reached for a different strip, something caught his eye on the TV. There had been some sort of disturbance in Metropolis. Quickly he got to his feet and ran towards the tv, setting it to record.

Images of Superman fighting some sort of huge alien appeared on the screen. The camera was steady but the cameraman struggled to keep up with the fast paced action.

He always recorded other heroes appearances whenever they were on the news, though he didn’t care about these as much as he did for Batman’s. Superman and the other Leaguers appeared often on tv, but Batman didn’t. Which was one of his many, many reasons why he snuck out to look at him in action. But these recordings helped him know more about the  _ presentation  _ of the shots, and the Metropolis crew were pros.

He examined the strip in his hand as the report progressed. There were more pictures of the circus. This one was the batch he took while he snuck into the trailer area. His mind wandered for a moment until the report ended and he snapped out of it in time to end the recording. 

He got to his feet and heard the news anchor say something that caught his attention.

“—  _ this terrible tragedy at Haly’s circus is our correspondent Summer Gleeson, talk to us Summer _ .”

“ _ Hi, Mari. I’m here with Detectives Bullock and Montoya, from the GCPD, who are in change of the investigation of the incident that took place here, in Haly’s Circus. What can you tell us about the investigation _ ?”

“ _ Nothing, ma’am, it’s just routine work. _ ” Said the bulky-looking man. “ _ Nothing to investigate, it was merely an accident. _ ”

“ _ But surely the fact that two of Gotham’s homicide detectives are on site must mean something? _ ”

“ _ We just want to exhaust every possibility _ ,” the female detective said, “ _ but we cannot say with conviction at this time that foul play was at hand. _ ”

Tim’s eyes widened at that wording. They’d used it before and Tim knew what it meant. It wasn’t a confirmation but it was actually something they were considering very seriously, and the only reason they didn’t say it outright was because they feared for someone’s safety. 

What if, and he was just spitballing here, what if the targets had been all the Graysons, and the fact that Dick got away threw a wrench in their plans? The police hadn’t mentioned he’d run away, they probably want them to think they have Dick in police custody or something. If word got out that the police was onto something, the perp would do something rash, like kill someone else.

The perpetrator… Tim looked down at the film strip in his hand, the picture of Haly looking nervous around a gang of masked men who, now that Tim thinks about it, weren’t part of the show at any point. 

His heart was almost beating out of his chest. He needed to do something! But what? Call the police? Find Dick and warn him he might be in trouble? What if the reason he lost sight of him just means someone got to him first?

He started pacing, his hands fisted in his hair. He didn’t know what to do.

The phone rang. He jumped, a scream almost to the tip of his tongue.  _ They know I know _ , he thought irrationally,  _ they know I know and they’re going to get rid of me _ .

He tiptoed to the phone quietly as it rang, worried that someone might be watching. He placed his hand on the receiver and sighed, “Dang it, Tim. You’re too smart. You always knew it was gonna kill you someday.” He whispered to himself.

“Hello…?” He answered weakly.

“Hi, is this… Timothy Drake?” Said a female voice from the other end.

_ They know, they know, they know _ , “T-this is he.” He said in a small voice.

“I got something of yours here, Tim.”

_ Oh god, they have Dick. It’s all over _ , he thought, tears coming out of his eyes. He couldn’t negotiate with kidnappers, his dad wouldn’t approve of that. Oh god his parents, he was gonna die and he wouldn’t see them again, and they’d see the mess he left in the kitchen. They’d find the Batman pictures in his room.

“Hello?”

“Y-Yes!”

“I was asking if you could come over, you left your wallet here.”

“I’m sorry! I can’t negotiate with terrori— My wallet?”

“Yes…? You  _ are _ Timothy Drake from Gotham Heights High School, right?”

“Right, yes! That’s, that’s me. You have my wallet?”

“Yeah, you probably left it here in the diner last night, handy you got contact information on it. So, can you come get it?”

“Sure, yes.” He quickly wrote the directions the lady dictated and before she could hang up he quickly asked “Were you there last night?”

“Huh? Yeah, we don’t really do shifts here. You’ll remember me when you see me! I’ll probably remember you too, though the school blazer is a much different look than a little blue fairy costume.” She laughed. “See you later, pumpkin!”

“Uh, yes! Thank you.” He hanged up. Blue fairy costume? It had to be a huge coincidence.

But Tim didn’t believe in coincidences.

* * *

 

Dick walked around the long open halls of the abandoned theater, running one of his hands along the wall, using the other to keep the jacket closed.

He’d been walking for a good while, there were rooms upon rooms to explore. Almost all completely intact, a perfect snapshot of the past. It was fascinating. If he could encapsulate Gotham in one building, this would be the one.

The walls were patterned velvet, and through the floor and ceiling where lights that didn’t shine anymore, but Dick could bet it would look incredible in its own time.

The building didn’t look it from the outside, but it was actually built in a circular shape. No matter which corridor Dick took or how many twists and turns he made, he always ended up at the auditorium eventually.

Rows and rows of seats faced the now dark stage, where the curtains were either drawn or completely absent.

Dick looked up at the ceiling, it was so high up, the darkness almost swallowed it completely, if it wasn’t because of a few holes here and there. There, saw the biggest chandelier he’d ever seen. He tracked it with his eyes as he walked past the rows of seats. His field of vision shifted from the chandelier to one of the balconies. He couldn’t help the mad grin that grew on his face.

It only took him a few minutes to get to the third floor and into the balcony he’d seen. He braced himself against the railing and looked down, it was pretty high up. He looked at the chandelier, it was actually farther away than he initially thought.

He was starting to think it was probably not such a good idea after all. The place was still standing but it was undeniable that it was in disrepair. He really shouldn’t, he thought as he walked out back to the corridor.

In a split second, he broke into a run back to the balcony. He threw himself down hands first and caught himself, springing back up almost immediately, he flipped twice, enough to make the jump on top of the railing, then flinging himself off of the balcony.

He sailed in the air for what seemed like an eternity. He could almost see the audience in the stands, the vibrant lights of the theater shining down on him, the chandelier coming closer and closer. Yet, not close enough.

He flailed as he realized he wouldn’t make it to the fixture, he was falling and there was no net under him. Then, his fingers caught on something. At that moment he was more instinct that reason, so he held on to dear life. One hand first, then another. 

He focused himself, cringing at the friction in his hands. He swung his feet to control the speed of his fall and then, as the floor came reasonably closer, he let go. 

He landed on his feet, but had to backflip a few times to balance himself, though at the last one he lost his footing and fell on his ass.

“Ow.” He groaned, and looked at the chandelier. He seemed to have been holding onto one of the cables meant to keep the chandelier in place, it must have fallen at some point. “Ow…” he repeated, looking at his hands. They were badly scraped and starting to bleed.

Someone clapped slowly off the side of the stage, it was Jason, the boy who’d brought him to this place. Dick felt subconscious of his hands, and hid them behind his back as he got to his feet.

“Impressive.” Praised Jason, though his tone suggested he wasn’t very impressed. “You’re always this suicidal this early in the morning?”

Dick glared at him “Dunno, are you always this nosy?” He moved to the edge of the stage and jumped to join Jason in the front row. Jason had a funny way of talking that involved insulting people every three sentences; and Dick considered himself polite, but somehow with Jason he always ended up speaking his mind. He couldn’t understand it.

Jason was slouched against the side of one of the seats, his hands in his pockets “Well imagine my surprise when I come check in on the sad runaway with a tragic backstory, only to find he’s jumping off balconies for no goddamn reason.” He said in overly dramatic tones.

“This is not that, I was just… curious is all.”

“Right,” he got to his feet and looked at Dick, though he tried his best to avert his face. “Did you manage to sleep at all last night?”

“A little,” he lied, “you can't expect me to just stay put after you brought me to such an incredible place, really it’s your fault.”

“What else is new.”

Dick looked at Jason, he sounded sad. Dick suddenly felt terrible for being so harsh on him, after all he’d just been trying to help.

“I’m so—“

“Either way though, it’s clear you’re not dealing with shit properly.” He said, reaching out to grab Dicks hands from behind him and pulled them forward, palms up. “Really?” He sighed. “Wait here.”

Dick watched as he went somewhere under the stage, though he couldn’t see very clearly. Eventually he emerged with a few white—if a bit dusty looking—bandages and a few other things.

Jason directed him to sit on one of the seats and he himself sat next to him, turned to the side to face him properly. He held his hand out and Dick wordlessly offered him his.

Jason started to clean the wounds slowly though without caring how many times Dick hissed or made faces reacting to the sting of the alcohol.

He could only think about all the times his mom had done just the same for him. Her touch was gentle where Jason’s was sturdy; she smiled at him, talking in soothing tones that everything would be alright, while Jason stuck to his work and kept silent. No one could tell him everything would be alright now.

A few tears fell from his face without his approval, landing in wet splotches on top of Jason’s work, though he didn’t pause long, merely regarding him with a look before lowering his gaze again. “Sorry,” Dick said, scrubbing his face harshly with his free hand, “I don’t know what came over me.” He laughed. He felt silly. He couldn’t stop crying, though he desperately rubbed at his eyes, all while he chuckled to himself about how silly he was being. 

Jason had released his hand and Dick now used both to scrub and cover his face, though the tears wouldn’t stop falling. “I’m sorry,” he said, apologizing to Jason for interrupting his work “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.”

Dick stretched himself backwards, looking up at the ceiling to stop the tears from falling, he could see the chandelier clearly from down here. He now realized how impossible that jump had been, he’d never had made it.

“You’re right,” he said, once his  breathing had gone back to normal “I’m not dealing with this well.” He turned to look at Jason, who was simply watching him. He stuck his hand out again and Dick offered his own again, a different one this time.

“I figured. First step is accepting it.”

“You’re wise. What’s the second step?”

“Dunno, no one's ever bothered explaining what comes after that.”

Dick laughed. Jason finally finished patching him up and patted his legs as he got to his feet. “Come on, I’ll take you to the circus now.” He said gathering his things.

Dick hesitated. “I…” Jason turned to look at him curiously. “I don’t know what I’m going to do when I get there.” He said, looking at his bandages hands. “My parents are… and I’ll see them everywhere I go. I’m not sure I’m ready.”

“Listen, kid. They’re going to haunt you for the rest of your life, there’s no denying that.” Jason said bluntly “But it's up to you if you decide to stay trapped in the memory of that tragedy or move forward. Just look at this place.” He said, and Dick looked at the beautiful decaying theater. “This place used to be the shit, shows every weekend, the place was packed.” He said looking up at the chandelier “Or so I heard.” He walked towards the stage, his voice still clear in the empty space. “Before my time some rich folks got killed nearby and the Theater died with them, everyone thought it was tainted with that memory. I think it’s a goddamn waste.”

Dick understood what Jason meant by a waste. Not a moment passed when he didn’t imagine how the Theater would look like to its full potential. He was scared, but he didn’t want to do that to the memory of his parents.

“So, we going?” Jason Said as he watched Dick get up to his feet.

“Yeah, lets go.”

* * *

 

Tim walked into the diner, the door chiming to announce his entrance. He looked around the place, it wasn’t much but it was  _ clearly _ a diner. Or like a caricature of one at least.

He approached the counter and sat on one of the swivel seats. He watched the customers from the corner of his eye as he pretended to look at the menu. They were all minding their own business, at least no one had made obvious notice of him. Of course he’d made sure of it, wearing his most inconspicuous looking clothes.

“Hey there, pumpkin!” Said a blond waitress, the tips of her hair dyed in bright colors; she hadn't been wrong, it was a very unique look. She’d been manning the soda machine before she approached him. “Did ya’ get lost from the cast of the Newsies?”

“What?”

“Nothing, nothing. Just ignore silly old me, what can I help you with?”

“Uh,” he had cooked up a plan to make the most of this visit, though he didn’t know if it would work. “Can I get a milkshake?”

“Can you! Of course! What flavor you’d like, may I offer you our new syrup flavor?” She grinned, wiggling her eyebrows.

“Ohh, yeah! I mean, yes.” He said straightening up, trying to get his voice deeper “I’d love that.”

“I’ll be right on it!”

“Oh, and um…” he stopped her before she left, “I seem to have, left my wallet here, apparently?”

The girl watched him with round, wide eyes. “Oh my, _you’re_ the Drake boy?”

“Yeah.”

“Well now! I’ll be right with you, okay?”

She went to the back and Tim waited patiently, swiveling in his seat a few times. The girl popped out again, she was holding his wallet and a caramel colored milkshake. “Yep!” She held a card up, his student ID “That’s you alright.” She handed him everything.

“How strange, I don’t remember coming here last night though.” He checked the contents of the wallet, sure enough it was empty. He looked at the girl with an attempt to raise an eyebrow though he didn’t quite pull it off.

The girl shrugged “Don’t look at me, it was like that when I found it.” She said. “Though I really did think y’all were the same person at first! What with the dark raven hair and the blue eyes.” The girl squinted, “tho yours are more icy blue. And well, you’re not dressed weird,” she looked him up and down, “not as weird at least.”

Tim had been sipping the milkshake as she spoke, the sweet yet tangy taste of syrup washing over him. He paused. “Right, you mentioned that before, that you saw someone dressed weird… how weird?” He asked, subconsciously fixing his vest jacket.

The girl put a finger to her chin as if lost in thought “Well he was wearing this cute little fairy looking costume, it was pretty hard to miss.”

“Like a circus costume?”

She snapped her fingers “That’s exactly it! In fact they were talking about the circus.”

_ They? _ “What did they say?”

“Oh, I’m not sure, I try not to listen to people’s conversations,” she paused for a moment, looking like she wouldn't elaborate; but then she moved up closer, almost conspiratorially she whispered, “but it was something about going back to the circus?”

A light bulb went on in Tim’s head. Dick was going back to the circus, of course! He’d eventually have to go back, he has nowhere else to go… and if you were a bad guy who wanted to finish the job, you’d also know that.

Tim got to his feet, pocketed his wallet, threw in some cash in the counter and finished his milkshake in a haste. “Thanks lady!” He threw the container away and ran out of the diner. He needed to get to  _ them _ before the bad guys did.

Or else Dick Grayson was a dead man.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im trying to put in as many of my hcs in here as possible because this is my city. So Tim’s a foodie now but ONLY of junk food. Also for some reason he ended up being the comic relief character because gosh Dick and Jason are so dark rn y'all!


	4. Chapter 4

Jason walked side to side with Dick, shooting glances in his direction every so often. He seemed restless, even though he’d bravely declared he was ready to face the facts. In reality he looked anything  _ but _ ready. 

But he wasn’t going to baby him any longer, he was going to drop him at the circus and be done with it. And if he didn’t realize they were taking the long way there, well, that’s on him really.

Jason kicked a can on the sidewalk. He didn’t know why he was even doing any of this in the first place. At first sure it was pity what made him save the poor bastard from a fate worse than death, but now? He wasn’t sure.

Curiosity? Because it seemed interesting?  _ Or perhaps _ , said a cynical voice in his head,  _ you just wanna make a difference for once before it’s too late _ . He kicked the can harder, it flew out onto the road where it was crushed under the wheels of a car.

“I really want to thank you,” said Dick after a moment.

“Oh, don’t start on this again.”

“No, really, you’re very nice for doing this for me, even though I don’t know how I might repay you.”

Jason thought for a moment. “Well you could always teach me how to do one of those flips you did.”

Dick laughed. “Are  _ you _ suicidal?”

Jason gave him a side eye glance, then looked back to the front, he shrugged. “Thought it was interesting,” he said, trying to keep a cool demeanor, though the prospect of learning these kinds of skills was actually thrilling. “What, too chicken to teach me?”

“Not at all,” Dick said in a singsong voice “only if you aren’t too chicken to break a few bones.”

“You got no idea.”

At some point they made it to the edge of the circus, where Jason had first found the fence. He was about to lift it and go in when a loud, high pitched voice caught their attention.

“ **WAIT!** ”

Both of them looked, a little boy dressed like he came straight from the early 1900s was running towards them full speed.

“Is he talking to us?” Said Jason, while Dick said “Tim?”

The boy, Tim, miscalculated his speed, either on purpose or by accident, and ended up slamming into them, knocking them both to the ground.

“Hey, what gives!” Cried Jason, pushing Tim off him but the boy held him back down as he tried to stand.

Tim shushed him with a finger to his mouth and a wild look in his eyes “Shhh! Keep quiet, who knows who’s listening!” He hissed.

Jason pushes him off again and stood up, patting his trousers clean, though they were already a lost cause before. “Yeah well your  _ yelling _ surely made sure that its  _ everyone _ !” He held a hand out to Dick to help him stand, which he took with an amused look.

Tim was looking all around him with suspicion. “What’s wrong, Tim?” Dick said, moving to catch Tim’s eye.

“We can’t talk here, it isn’t safe. Come with me.” He gestured to follow and started walking towards one of the alleys, pulling at Dick’s hand.

Jason walked just a bit behind Dick and whispered so Tim would t hear. “You  _ know _ this lunatic?”

Dick nudged him with his elbow and continued to follow. Jason looked back at the circus and sighed, then joined them at the alley.

“I’ve been looking for you everywhere!” Tim was saying. Tim looked at Jason as he got closer, and did a double take. “Wait, I know you! You’re the kid who took our picture!” He rummaged through his pockets until he found what he’d been looking for. “You stole my wallet!” He pointed with the offending wallet in his hand.

“You  _ stole _ his wallet?” Dick said shocked.

“More like borrowed it, you got it back didn’t you?” Jason grinned.

Tim glared for a moment before composing himself. “No matter, thanks to that I was able to find you—not that it excuses  _ you _ !” Jason shrugged, still smiling. Dick was shaking his head. “Point is... I needed to tell you it isn’t safe to go back.”

“What do you mean it isn’t safe?” Asked Dick, suddenly serious.

“I’m pretty sure whoever’s behind what happened… they might still be a threat!”

“Behind… Tim, it was an accident. It pains me to say but, accidents happen,” said Dick, looking down.

“I know, I know. But I’m pretty sure the police think so too.”

“The police?”

“It’s... hard to explain, but they have a way to report to the public what happens. I know their tells, they know something fishy’s happening.”

“I don’t know, Tim. This all sounds so…”

“Ridiculous?” Asked Tim seriously, Dick winced. “That’s fine, I knew you wouldn’t believe me just like that.”

“It’s not that I don’t believe you, it’s just, a lot, you know?”

“No, no, i get it.” Said Tim, sliding his backpack off his shoulders and onto the ground, he started rummaging around. Jason leaned in to take a peek, the backpack was full of all sorts of odd things, a pair of weird goggles, a change of clothes, a bundle of rope… the kid was weird for sure. 

Tim eventually found what he’d been looking for. “Which is why… I brought proof,” he said, pulling out a piece of film. He walked towards Dick and handed it to him. “Look, right here,” he pointed.

“I don’t see anything.” Said Dick squinting.

Tim was visibly growing either irritated or nervous, Jason couldn’t tell. He  took the film from Dick and held it up “You have to hold it to the light to see,” he pointed “Here.”

“It’s Haly… but I don’t understand.” Dick said straightening back. “What does Haly have to do with it?”

Jason took the film from Tim to look at it “Careful,” Tim said, then faced Dick. “He has everything to do! Just looking at his body language, I can tell he’s not comfortable, like they’re harassing him? And those people in masks, I saw them again later when the accident happened! It can't be a coincidence!”

Dick looked pensive for a moment, “I guess Haly was acting more nervous than he usually is…” Tim nodded , prompting him to continue. “He seemed to be really high strung, even though he's usually the calmest before the shows.” Dick sighed, rubbing his face “But this could mean anything, I mean it's our first time in Gotham. He was probably just—“

“I think I know these guys,” said Jason. Both Tim and Dick swiveled to look at him, Jason shrugged “I’m not sure though, the picture is too small. But I think I’ve seen gangbangers like these before.”

Tim’s eyes brightened, then suddenly was all up on Jason’s face, looking back and forth between him and the film. “Really?!”

“Yeeeah, I’m not sure though, don’t make a big deal out of this.”

“Do you think if you could take a better look maybe you could tell?” 

Jason shrugged.

“And  _ then _ what?” Asked Dick who had gone further into the alley, crouching and holding his head in his hands. He looked up “what happens if he tells you they’re, they’re, what, the  _ culprits _ ? The people who  _ killed _ my parents?”

Tim settled down a bit in his nervous energy “Then, I can give these to the police and help them catch the bad guys, get them to justice.” Jason rolled his eyes at the naivety of that statement.

“Yeah, but when does it become safe for me to go back? Is it even safe for  _ them _ ?” He got up to Tim’s face and pointed towards the circus.

“Hey man, take it easy,” said Jason, placing a hand between them. Tim had fallen silent.

“Take it easy?  _ Take it easy _ ? Here you are, the both of you, telling me that maybe, there’s the tiny,  _ tiniest _ possibility that someone out there murdered my parents—“

“And you too, maybe, I mean, they tried, probably,” mumbled Tim.

“Dude, you’re not helping.”

“—and you tell me to  _ take it easy _ ?! That’s insane!” Tim winced at the outburst. Dick threw his arms up and walked back and forth, fuming without another word.

Jason sighed, looked at Tim, who followed Dick with his eyes. Jason snapped his fingers in front of his face until he looked at him.

“So, answer the question. How do you know he’s not safe but they are?”

“I’m working on the assumption that the attempt was on the Graysons as a whole. Dick included, as Dick’s part of the legacy.” Tim said, his tone more monotone, more subdued. “They’re clearly using the deaths as leverage over Haly, and Gotham criminals have a big ego and they don’t care about anything more than their reputation, by now they probably told him Dicks dead,” he gestured at Dick who was now looking at them attentively, “and are probably actively trying to find him to make it true in case word goes out to other gangs.”

“That makes sense, what’s stopping them from killing anyone else?”

Tim’s eyes flickered towards Dick “Nothing really. Only, if Haly does what they ask for him everyone's probably safe. The same can’t be said for Dick though, he’s dead either way. If they see him, that is.” He looked down “That’s why I was in such a hurry to get you out of sight, they probably figured you’d try to go back and they’d kidnap you or something.”

“Oh.” Said Dick.

“Yeah, I’m sorry,” Said Tim gesturing between them “I’m not very good at the whole, talking thing, and I was—“

“No, it’s okay, you’re just… trying to help.” Dick hugged himself. 

They stayed silent for a moment, the gravity of the situation washing over them. 

“Well, this sucks.” Said Dick. “What do I do then, go to the cops? Go into some witness protection program or something?”

Tim shook his head, “Best case scenario, whoever’s behind this doesn’t have a lot of sway politically, but risking it seems a bit…”

“What does that mean?”

“Sherlock here thinks they may have moles in the police,” said Jason impressed, he thought the boy was naive at first, but he wasn’t too bad.

“Oh, great.” Dick slumped against the wall. “What  _ can _ I do then?”

“Um.” Said Tim.

“Out with it, squirt.”

Tim glared at the nickname. “I just thought, maybe we could… try and get the culprit ourselves.”

“Don’t be ridiculous.” Said Jason at the same time Dick said “Like revenge?”

“Right, but not quite. Again, you could help me see who these goons are, you guys can come to my house and I’ll set it up so you can identify them. And if we have more solid proof we can bring it to someone trustworthy, like the commissioner!”

“I’m not gonna rub noses with no cops. Besides,” said Jason, “none of this has anything to do with me, actually. I’d like to keep it that way.” It was one thing to help a stranger, but going to the police was out of the question. He wasn’t  _ that  _ nice.

Jason turned to leave, not missing the way Dicks expression openly fell. 

“I’ll pay you!” Tim blurted out . Jason stopped in his tracks. “Double whatever was on the wallet.”

Jason turned, considering. Dick looked upset and unsure and just a few minutes ago they’d been laughing together. “Well now you’re speaking my language.”

* * *

 

They walked together towards Tim’s house, the packed city streets eventually giving way to a more suburban area. The space between each building growing farther apart as they moved forward.

Jason whistled “I know I stole your wallet, but I didn’t know you were  _ this  _ loaded.” 

Tim glared at him unamused at the reminder, he turned towards Dick and explained. “This is Gotham Heights, we moved here last summer because I go to school here.”

Dick hummed, looking around. Tim frowned, he was worried about him. He hadn’t said much since they started walking to his house, even though Tim made his best effort to give him a proper guided tour on the way since he knew Dick was interested in Gotham.

“Yeah…” Tim mumbled awkwardly, focusing back on the road.

“That’s weird, you moved because your schools nearby?” Said Jason.

Tim turned to him. “Yeah, I go to Gotham Heights, I skipped a grade. Why is that weird?” And come to think of it, he didn’t know who Jason—as he’d introduced himself—was or why he was with Dick in the first place, but he didn’t really care to ask. He doubted he’d tell him even if he  _ did _ ask, he had a mean look about him. 

“Isn’t usually the other way? Moving closer to your parents work or something? Living in the city proper?”

“Yeah, well. That’s not really a concern with us… My parents preferred living closer to the school.” Tim stretched “Which is great, you know, I used to go to boarding school, it sucks!”

“Can’t imagine.” Said Jason, who glanced at Dick. He still seemed distracted.

“Uh, anyways, it’s this house here.” He pointed and started crossing the front lawn. 

The front lawn had perfectly trimmed grass and a few ornate hedges. Tim was glad they had gotten rid of the pink flamingos. That would have been embarrassing.

The other two followed after him and he opened the front door for them, placing his keys in their bowl. “You don’t have to take off your shoes. Make yourselves at home.” He said, remembering his mother’s lessons about how to be a good host. “Are you guys hungry? I can get you food.”

Jason looked at Dick, then back at Tim “We could eat.”

“Okay, I’ll get you something. You guys just go wait in my room, up the stairs the one on the right.” He moved towards the kitchen. “It’ll just take a second.”

He went to the fridge and looked what they had. Mrs. Mac had prepared a lot of things the last time she’d been around, before his parents left again, but he didn’t know what was too old to eat. He grabbed the closest dish, it was the dinner his mom had prepared before they got the urgent call from the dig site. Shepherds Pie, her favorite thing to make.

He sighed and took it out. Putting it back in the oven. He set it up to reheat it and went to look for drinks. He took out one bottle of juice and some vitamin water and put them in a tray, collected a few clean dishes—a matching set of course—and added them to the bunch.

He looked at his watch, the pie needed a bit more time. He looked at the mess he’d left in the kitchen and, with resignation, he set out to clean, rinsing the dishes and putting them in the dishwasher. He didn’t mind the mess on his own, but with visitors it was different. It was his parents house after all.

Once he was done he pulled out the pie and balanced everything on the tray. He’d have to walk carefully, but he didn’t want to make two trips. He almost missed a step, as he couldn’t quite see where he was going but he made it alright.

He noticed the door was closed, but he couldn’t knock with his hands occupied. He set down the tray on the floor and as he went to open the door, he heard voices from the other side.

_ “—kid’s just trying to help you and you’re acting like a complete bitch. I know you’re going through a lot but he doesn’t deserve it.” _

_ “I know, alright! I know I suck. But I don’t even know what to say to him. It’s my parents were talking about here, my family! And he’s treating it like some sort of game, I can tell. But it’s real to me. You wouldn’t understand what I’m going through right now.” _

_ “You don’t know that, you don’t know me, or that kid for that matter. And yet here we  _ both _ are trying to help  _ you _. You could have decided to go to the circus, we wouldn’t have stopped you, but  _ you _ chose to come. So suck it up, princess.” _

Tim listened wide eyed as they argued. They were fighting because of him. He’d been tactless, he knew he was at fault. He didn’t consider how Dick would feel when he told him his dumb theories. He felt stupid, he always did the same thing. 

When his mom had advised to never do what he wasn’t asked for he hadn’t understood it, even as she had complained about his dad never noticing anything she did for him because she hadn’t needed to. 

He waited a few moments to make sure they weren’t talking anymore and knocked on the door. He picked up the tray as Dick opened the door. He smiled at him “Let me help you with that.” He grabbed the drinks and closed the door behind them.

“Thanks,” Said Tim, smiling politely. He set the tray on his desk.

He felt a little subconscious over the state of his room. There were clothes and books thrown all over the floor. He felt specially ashamed over his Green Lantern bedsheets.

Jason was looking at the pictures in his cork board. They were pictures he thought his parents wouldn’t think twice, artistic photos: people, birds, the skyline, an alien spaceship from his trip to Metropolis (but everyone saw that one so it wasn’t a secret.)

“Cool pics, you take all of these?” Jason said pointing, walking over to serve himself some juice.

“Yeah, almost all of them. Some are newspaper clippings.” Though they were mostly from his parents appearances on the news, it made his dad beam with pride whenever he came in. Tim liked to make him feel appreciated. Though sometimes he would very blatantly point the articles in his face as they ate dinner to make sure he noticed. 

Dick seemed to notice the pictures for the first time and went to look at them better. Tim opened one of the drawers of his bedside table and pulled out a special magnifying lens for film and joined Jason at the desk.

“Here,” he said, “I’ll look for the other strips in case there’s clearer pictures.” He set the film he’d taken with him down on the desk and placing the magnifier over it. “Meanwhile you can look at this one.”

He walked back to his bed where Dick was now sitting, looking at Jason. “‘scuse me,” Tim mumbled as he kneeled beside him to reach for a shoebox under his bed. 

Dick lifted his legs and said “You got a nice room.”

“Thanks.” Tim answered shortly, grabbed the box and looked through its contents, holding the strips of film to the light.

“Are you an only child?”

“Yeah.”

“Hmmm. I wish I had brothers sometimes, though in the circus everyone’s sort of family.”

“That’s nice.” Tim said. He didn’t know why Dick was telling him these things. Maybe he wanted to ease Tim to understand why he’d gotten upset. Except Tim already knew and now it felt patronizing, though he knew he deserved It. He didn’t want to speak much, else he put his foot in his mouth again.

He found another strip with pictures of Haly and handed them to Jason, who gave him a  _ look _ before getting back to the films.

Tim understood this look. He grabbed one of the pens in his desk and clicked it a few times. “I never… I never really thought about it.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah, I guess I’m used to being the only one h- an only child.” He put down the pen and started fiddling with the things in his shelf, trying to organize his cereal toy collection. He knew he should look at Dick while speaking but he felt too embarrassed to do so.

“That’s fine.” Said Dick “The people from the circus are alright but there’s no other kids my age, y’know?”

“I see…”

“Well I myself, am perfectly fine being an only child, I’ve found out recently.” Chimed in Jason as he stretched back and pointed at the film with his thumb. “I’m sure of it now, these are Black Mask’s people. Seen ‘em by the docks.”

Dick sat up on the bed “Does this mean we can go to the police?”

Jason and Tim exchanged a look.

“What? What is it?”

“Black Mask is on a whole new level.” Said Tim “He's a big name criminal. Police can’t lay hands on him.”

“More like they don’t.” Added Jason “He’s got the GCPD wrapped around his finger, some of them at least. Enough to matter.”

“But, if the police can’t get him then it’s useless!” Dick cried “Am I going to have to live on the run for the rest of my life? What’s going to happen to the circus?”

“Most likely they’re being bribed. Mask is gonna work them dry straight into bankruptcy using protection fees as an excuse.” Said Jason, swiveling in the chair lost in thought, he was holding Tim’s toy-batarang in his hands. “That’s how he works.”

They looked at each other in tense silence. They had hit a wall. Tim’s heart was beating a mile a minute. He was weighing the pros and cons of speaking his mind versus being agreeable. In the end his stubbornness won out.

“There’s someone who can get him.” He could feel Jason’s frown in his side. Tim gave the toy a pointed look. “The Batman.”

If a burglary happened at the other side of the city, Tim thought they’d be able to hear the screams in the silence his room had just fallen to.

“The Batman. Really.” Said Jason in a flat voice, then sighed, dropping the faux batarang on the table.

“Batman? Who’s Batman?”

“No one. Drop it, Tim.”

“There’s no other choice, if anyone can bring down Black Mask it’s Batman!” Said Tim, glaring at Jason.

“Can someone please explain to me what’s happening?”

“Batman is a vigilante, Gotham’s specifically. He’s the world’s greatest detective and sometimes he works with the police.”

“Can I talk with you for a second?” Jason said getting up. “In private.” He walked out of the room before waiting for Tim to answer.

He followed him out. Tim knew Dick would be able to hear through the door but he didn’t feel like mentioning it.

“What are you doing?” Jason asked, crossing his arms.

“I’m proposing an alternative.” 

“No, what you’re doing is giving him false hope. You have no idea what this is going to do to him. So maybe now’s not the time for bedtime stories and fairy tales.”

“I know that.” Tim said, curling his hands into fists. “This isn’t that, I’m serious.”

“Oh yeah? And why would  _ Batman  _ even care about this anyways? He probably has better things to do. He doesn’t care about people like us, he won’t help you. And you have no way of talking to him.”

“That… may be true but...”

“Are you gonna phone him? Do you have him on speed dial? Of course, you’re rich I wouldn’t be surprised if you did.”

“That has nothing to do—”

“Listen, never mind all that.” Said Jason, combing a hand through his messy hair. “I know you want to help, but when you gotta give you gotta give. Now is the time to give. This is real life.”

“You’re not just here because of the money.” Said Tim, looking Jason over. He had walls up, but he could tell this meant something to him personally. 

He didn’t answer.

“You care about this. I care about this too, he’s…” he didn’t say what he thought about Dick, as he himself didn’t know. He’d just met him the other day. He wasn’t deluded to think of them as friends, but he didn’t want him to die, that much he knew. “I’m serious.”

The door opened “I want to hear what he has to say.” Dick said,  walking out to the corridor.

Jason startled then heaved a deep sigh. “It’s your funeral.”

Tim took a breath then walked into his room again. “Ok, nothing I tell you now leaves this room,” he looked back at them, “promise.”

“Right.”

“Whatever.” Said Jason, closing the door.

Tim went into his walk in closet, clicking on the light bulb. He knelt and felt around the floor, he found the loose plank and lifted it. He brought out three shoeboxes and laid them on the floor in front of Dick and Jason, who joined him wordlessly.

Tim held onto the lid of the middle box. There was no going back now. “I know Batman like no one else does, and I can prove it,” he opened the box, revealing dozens upon dozens of pictures, every single one of them, the Dark Night was present. “He's not like the other heroes. He uses his cunning abilities to find evidence where no one else dares to look. And I’ve got a few ideas.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally they’re all together and all it took was 15k words. Felt like forever to me.   
> Anyways with this (and the past 3 ch) you can sort of see what I’m going for. Except jason, whos still very mysterious in my opinion, he’s just a very private person.
> 
> So I think that’s a good first act as I’m gonna call it. I will slow down updates now to once a month (I just wanted to get these four out together for setting purposes).  
> I’ve got several more chapters written for this and I’ve got the ending in sight, so hope y’all stick around or something.


	5. Chapter 5

“This is a dumb plan,” said Jason taken aback by the  absurdity of what he was hearing. He was sitting cross-legged in front of hundreds of photographs and bat paraphernalia. He was fiddling with a slightly chipped batarang. A drop of blood trickled down his finger as he tested the sharp side. He kicked Dick lightly. “Tell him it's stupid and it wont work.”

Dick glared at him then looked at Tim appeasingly.“It does seem pretty… hard to pull off.” He was laying down on his stomach, looking through the clearer pictures. 

“I know its a little bit crazy.” Said Tim, swiveling in his chair, drinking his second bottle of water. He'd been explaining his plan to them for a while now and seemed pretty tired. “Okay, I'm not gonna lie. It's really crazy. But it's the only thing that comes to mind.”

Dick thought about it, it was all sorts of dangerous. Not only that but bad people were probably already looking for him in that moment. There was no way to prove it would work, but as Tim had said, it was better than nothing. Dick looked at one of the photos in front of him, where Batman seemed to be holding a man dressed in green—The Riddler, as Tim had explained—by the lapels. It was one of the clearer pictures, and Dick could see it here. For Batman something like this wasn't impossible. “I say lets do it.”

Both Tim and Jason looked at him surprised. “R-Really?!” Exclaimed Tim.

“Yeah,” Dick said, focusing on his hands as they curled into fists, “I already ran once before, I already hid. This is all that's left. I don't want these people to hurt my family anymore. I want to make them pay for what they did.” He got to his feet. “If the police aren't going to do anything, then I will.”

“Yes!” celebrated Tim with his fists in the air, the chair swivelling with the force of his movement.

Dick gave him half a smile then turned to Jason. “You don't have to come, you've already done more than enough for me.”

Jason glared at him, his hands crossed. He got to his feet as well “And what, let the two of you get yourselves killed? Nah, that'd be too boring. I'm in.” They both grinned. 

“Okay!” Tim said, “if we're doing this, lets not lose daylight. Every minute counts. I think well cover more ground if we split up.”

Jason lifted up the batarang still in his hand. “I call dibs on the precinct. Got personal beef with those pigs,” he said with a wild look in his face. He'd been opposed to the idea before but now he almost seemed to be looking forward to it.

“I thought you didn't mess with cops?” 

“It's one thing to mess  _ with _ them and another to  _ mess _ with them.”

“Right…” Said Tim who looked like he didn't quite understand the nuances of what Jason had just said. He took the batarang from Jason, leaving it on the table. “You best go with him,” he said to Dick.

“I don't need a babysitter.”

“It’s not  _ babysitting _ , but Dick can’t move around on his own remember? And he can't come with me. Besides, you might need him to be able to tell what evidence might be useful, since we can't just take it.”

“Where are you going?” Asked Dick.

“I'm going to the circus.” Tim said, looking at Dick seriously. “I need to ask some questions, I know for sure people dont tell everything to the cops.”

“What are you implying?” said Dick offended. His family had nothing to hide from the cops.

“Nothing! I just think police are authority figures, the pressure can cause people to omit things they think aren't important, but could change everything. I'm just a kid, they won't have reason to hide stuff from me.”

“Right,” said Jason, from the other side of the room, looking out of the window. “What are we looking for then?”

“Detectives Montoya and Bullock are in charge of the investigation, if there's anything about the case, it's going to be on their desk. And uh, another thing,” said Tim, slinging his backpack back on, “maybe you'd like to look around my closet for stuff to wear? You'll be sticking out like a sore thumb, specially you.” He told Dick.

“Right,” Dick said, looking down at himself. His costume was dirty from the events of today and his bandages had dark spots everywhere. “Well get on that, let's meet again here before nightfall.”

“I’ll go now, you guys help yourselves with anything you need, but uhm,” said Tim, stopping at the door “don't go in my parents room, I guess? See you guys later!”

They listened to his heavy footsteps as he ran down the stairs then the sound of the door closing behind him.

“So, he's quite the handful.” Said Dick, joining Jason by the window. They could see Tim running down the street, almost getting hit by a car then disappearing down the hill.

“Think he's got a screw loose.” Jason looked at him. “You sure about this?”

“No,” Dick sighed, leaning onto the window sill “but, again, what else can I do.”

“You could skip town, easy.”

“Not when my parents killers are free, I cant.” He went to the closet and grabbed a few clothes that could probably fit him. “So what do you say,” he held one of the shirts over his chest, “school boy or rock punk wannabe?”

Jason seemed to be lost in thought, fiddling again with Tim’s batarang. “If that’s the case, I’d like to make a stop first.” He flung the batarang and it stuck on the cork board with a thunk. Jason looked at him, “I think you’re thinking too small, let’s go all out.” He said walking into the closet.

* * *

 

Tim arrived back at the circus with no problem, keeping an eye out for any masked men. They wouldn’t be looking for him, but if they had seen him with Dick by chance he was dead meat.

He walked past the main entrance and found the place Jason and Dick had been trying to use to get in. Breaking in wasn’t part of  _ his _ side of the plan, but they might refuse to talk to him outright if he didn’t.  _ It’s easier to ask for forgiveness than asking for permission _ , he remembered his mom say. She was full of useful knowledge, he made a mental note to give her a “Free Back Rubs” coupon when they returned. He took off his backpack and slid it in before going in himself. He readied his camera.

The circus was completely different from his visit just the other day. For one there were no other guests, the stalls surrounding the main tent were unmanned and everything was eerily silent. There was no music or laughter anymore. It felt extremely terrifying and absolutely thrilling. He took several pictures. 

It reminded him of the local amusement park, now abandoned after one too many Joker takeovers. He felt Haly’s Circus got lucky that maniac clown wasn’t the one to get interested in them. But then again, he thought as he saw a flyer with the Graysons on it on the ground, they weren't all that lucky. 

He picked it up and read it. The Graysons were a family of aerialists who had a special flip no one could replicate, never seen before in Gotham.  _ It’s a shame they died in the middle of their act, now I will never be able to see it. _ The thought came unbidden, he felt ashamed of his selfishness as soon as he thought it. He pocketed the flyer.

He walked some more and was surprised not to find any performers around. He tried looking inside the tent but it was closed up. He never thought before how these huge things closed, they had no proper doors after all, yet another mystery. 

He decided to take a look at the trailer area and that’s when he heard them. Voices, and there were many. As he got closer he could hear much better, someone was sobbing.

He sneaked up behind the trailers and stuck his head around.

All the performers seemed to be here, gathered in a circle around a fire. None of them were in costume but looking at them now felt like looking at them just yesterday, thrown into one another’s arms looking for comfort. Haly himself was nowhere to be seen.

Their voices were quiet but he could make them out from this distance. Some seemed to be blaming themselves, saying it should have been them. Others cursed the city. None of them mentioned Dick.

Tim felt a tug in the back of his shirt and before he knew it he was hanging from it, his feet no longer touching the ground.

“You shouldn’t be here, kid.” Said a man in a soft yet ragged voice, his words slow and careful. He was an unusually large man and he was easily holding him by the scruff with only one hand, though it wasn't such an impressive feat if one were to consider how light Tim was after all.

“Ah! I can… I can explain!”

“What’s going on there?” Said a female voice, coming from the group of performers.

“No, wait!” 

“Found this one spying on us.” The big man said, coming out from behind the trailers still holding Tim. All the performers looked at them.

The woman, wearing black dress pants and a white satin shirt stood out as much as she could in a group of circus performers. Tim remembered he’d from her magic act. She said “Put him down, Samson, it’s just a little kid.”

The man, clearly Samson, gently lowered him down. Tim fixed his clothes and mumbled a thank you.

A large lady with beautiful pink cheeks approached him, he noticed snakes curling in her hair. She bent down and addressed him, “So sorry darling, there’s not going to be a show today. But two days from now, we’ll make sure to give you an amazing experience. Now what do you say you go back home, yes?”

As he looked at her closer he could see how red her eyes were, and yet she smiled so kindly at him. “I’m, I’m not here for the show.” Said Tim then cleared his throat. “I was here yuh-yesterday.”

“Oh, my!” Said the woman straightening up, placing her hand over her mouth. “You don’t think…?” She asked, looking at the lady magician.

The magician frowned “Were you here at the last show yesterday?” Tim nodded. “Oh, damn it.”

“Flo, language.”

“Sorry, Madame Lila.” The magician looked at Samson and the woman she’d referred to as madame, then looked back at Tim. “Care to join us? We’re having lunch soon.”

Tim hesitated, he couldn’t bear looking at the open grief in the face of these performers. He didn’t know what to say to them. On the other hand, he’d come to get something done and they were inviting him in, which was perfect. But he couldn’t help but feel guilty of taking advantage of their vulnerability. “Okay,” he said in the end.

He sat in an open spot next to a man who was mending a clown costume. Tim looked at his face with eyes wide and blushed as he got caught staring. 

“Never seen a clown without makeup have you? Bet it’s weirder than seeing one  _ with _ makeup.” The man laughed.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to stare.”

Plates with soup were passed around as ‘Madame’ served them. They all ate in silence, sipping quietly with the occasional blowing. Tim tasted it, it was good, warm. He said as much out loud.

“Glad you think so, here have some more!” Said Madame Lila, pouring a ladleful into his plate before he could refuse. “You need to put meat in them bones, you’re skinny! You’ll end up like Harry there next to you!” They all laughed at her exaggerated expression.

“Uh, thank you.”

“I swear to you, Dickie my boy, when you get all big and strong you’ll be thanking Madame, you will.”

The laughter died.

“Madame…” Said one of the performers.

“What is it?” She looked at him and then seemed to realize her mistake. “Oh, oh…” She sat down. To Tim she said “Sorry my boy, got all sorts of things in my head today.”

“It’s alright. I’m… my name’s Tim.” A wave of nice to meet you’s and how do you do’s came back his way. “I, uh, I’m sorry for your loss.” He added for lack of anything else to say.

“It’s us who should be sorry.” Said the magician, her grip on her bowl tightening.

A pink-haired girl who looked around her age put her hand over hers “Flo…”

“That you saw something like that… I can’t forgive myself. It should have been me.”

Tim was shocked. He knew he’d be getting a closer look at them while they grieved, but he’d never seen such raw emotions exposed like that in front of him.  _ Is that how Dick feels? _

“Don’t say that, it… it could have been any of us. If anything I'm glad, I’m glad we’re okay.” Said the girl “Well get through this together, like we’ve always done.” She leaned over and hugged the magician, who didn’t move in her embrace.

Tim felt wrong here, an outsider. He didn’t understand what they were going through. Just like he didn’t understand Dick. But he needed to keep prodding at the bleeding wound. 

“Yuh-You…” he began, “you said you were going to perform in two days… why? Isn’t that… too soon?”

Everyone looked apprehensive, like they shared his opinion but couldn’t get themselves to say it.

“The show must go on, as people say,” said Madame with a sigh. “They wouldn’t want us to dwell in the past for too long. It’s what I’ve chosen to believe. We will all,” She said, looking around all the performers, her lip trembling, “we will all move forward.”

“We woulda been gone by now if it were for us,” said a man, standing next to someone who looked like a mirror image of him.

“Don’t say that, Jacques!” exclaimed his twin.

“Well it’s true! But now they done told us we can’t leave. I don’t wanna stay in this wretched city any longer than we need ta.”

He wanted to press more about the order to stay but he couldnt help but ask: “You were leaving?” Asked Tim, shocked. “Already? What about Dick?”

They all felt silent.

“You know Dick?” Asked the pink haired girl.

_ Oops. _ “I-I-Yeah, before the show, he, he invited me to watch… he said, he’d do a special flip for me…”

There were murmurs all around him.

“Poor creature…”

“To think it’s what killed them…”

“I never would have thought…!”

Tim noticed Samson was crying silently, looking down at his hands. Some other performers soothed him and tried to cheer him up.  _ He must feel powerless, such a big man and he couldn’t do anything. I’m no better though _ , Tim thought, looking down at his hands, much smaller than Samson, weaker. He wondered if this plan was really such a good idea after all.

“Perhaps it’s better this way.” Said Madame with a sad look. 

“W-What do you mean?”

“The circus’ become a mess, this is no place for him to be. I’m sure, when the police find him, they’ll take him somewhere where he’ll be able to start over.”

“But, but you’re his family.”

“Look at us!” Cried the magician, getting to her feet. “Do you think we’re stable? I wouldn’t even be able to look at him in the eyes. I say he can stay away!” She said before storming out.

Madame gave the pink haired girl a look and she nodded before following after her. The twins took that cue to step away and finally, the strongman, still sniffing. One by one the performers started making their excuses and left.

It was just Tim and Madame now.

“How could she say that…?” Asked Tim horrified. The way Dick had talked about them before… but now they pushed him away. It was almost like… like... 

Madame looked back where the magician had gone and said “Sometimes people think avoidance is easier than dealing with true emotions. I do not blame her,” she held her let one of her snakes slide down her hand and looked at it mournfully. “I am angry at myself, too.”

“But, it was an accident,” Said Tim, though by now he knew better, “Are you really going to leave Dick behind?” Tears were welling up in his eyes.

Madame shook her head. “We love him too much to truly leave him behind; but because we love him, we must stay apart.” She rubbed at her face, catching the tears falling down her cheeks “Now, let me escort you to the exit.”

_ Because we love him, we must stay apart. _ As Tim walked with Madame hand in hand to the exit, he couldn’t help but think this was wrong. He believed it to the core of his being, though he didn’t understand why he felt so strongly. He looked up at Madame, who smiled down at him, and squeezed her hand. Before they left, he swore he'd bring Dick back home.

* * *

 

Jason opened the door to his apartment after a few tries with the rusted key. “Don’t stand around out there too long, the neighbors might see you,” he told Dick. Dick came after him, Jason feared he might take off flying like a helicopter judging by how much he was looking around.

“ _ Don’t  _ make yourself at home,” he added, kicking a bag of trash that was next to the door. “I’m just picking up my thing and we’re going.”

He left Dick standing around in his living room like a duck out of the water and went to one of the side rooms. He closed the door behind him as much as the hinges let him.

He addressed the probe figure laying down on the futon “Mom, I’m back.” His mother didn’t stir, still he continued to talk to her in a low voice. “I’ll be going out for a while, so don’t wait for me.”

He stepped over her to be able to face her properly. She seemed to be out cold but her eyes were half open. “Sheesh,” he covered her up with a blanket and took the syringe from her hand, “you’re going to hurt yourself if you sleep like this.”

He went towards the exit then kneeled in front of the door “There’s food in the fridge, don’t waste it,” he lifted up the loose floorboard and pulled out a box “if the landlord comes asking for rent blow him off, its already paid off.” He took out the contents  and tuckered them up deep in his jacket pocket, then placed the box back in the hole. He got to his feet and took a last look at his mom “you’re not even listening to me, are you?” He waited for a moment then laughed mirthlessly “‘course not. See you.”

“Hey,” said Dick, who hadn’t moved from his spot, though he was hovering over the couch cautiously. There was broken glass on it. “Is everything alright?”

Jason patted his jacket pocket “All set, let's blow this joint.”

He opened the door and gestured at Dick to leave first, and after some hesitation he did. He locked the door and they set out to the precinct.

On the way, he could feel Dicks eyes on the back of his neck. He heaved a sigh and said, “I know you want to ask, so just get it out of the way.”

“Is that where you live?”

“Duh.”

Dick frowned. “What did you go look for?”

“...My mom. She’s sick, so I look after her.”

“Oh.” Dick considered this, “is she going to be alright on her own? Maybe you shouldn’t come after all.” He said walking in front of jason blocking his path.

Jason shrugged “It doesn’t matter whether I’m there or not, so.” He sidestepped to move past him but Dick met him again.

“It does matter, have you forgotten why we’re doing this in the first place?”

Jason frowned. “This is about you, not me, so I don’t see your point.” He sidestepped again.

“My point is…!” Dick held him by his shoulders, “I don’t want you to regret this later. You’ve been helping me again and again and… I don’t want you to give away something I can’t repay you for.”

Jason met Dicks eyes and stood his ground. Dicks eyebrow started to twitch “Ahh! I get it! Do whatever you want!” He burst out and started walking ahead. “But if anything happens—“ 

“Yeah, yeah. I won’t blame you.”

“No,” he looked back at Jason, “you can count on me.”

Jason’s eyes widened. He averted his gaze. He didn't think Dick meant it, after all, Jason was already helping him, he didn’t need to offer anything in return. He was just saying it to seem nice. Yet, the feeling of company that came from walking side by side now felt warm.

He cleared his throat “Were here.”

The police precinct stood in front of them. Squads of cop cars were parked all along the street and people, uniformed or otherwise, went in and out of the building in droves.

They hid behind the rails of the steps. Dick rubbed his hands together. “Okay, so how’re we gonna do this? Sneak in through a window? Go through a backdoor? Bribe some cop to give us what we need?”

Jason put his hand on Dicks shoulder. “Oldest trick in the book, my friend.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The theme is family, of course.  
> I just wanted to say another one of my personal hc is that Tim had an easier time tracking down batman when he went against riddle based villains that leave public clues to be solved. Such as the Riddler and Two-Face. Not the Joker tho, why would he seek him out? Hes not dumb  
> Also, the characters from the circus are mostly canon characters from Halys circus, except the magician and her gf.  
> What could Jason possibly have gotten back there? Well never know.


	6. Chapter 6

Dick walked in through the front door, Jason following close behind him. He did his best to walk  _ normally. _ But there was a thing that happened, when he thought about doing the things he wouldn't usually think about, and it was that he forgot how to do it completely. His arms felt too long and his strides too irregular. For a second, he forgot how to breathe, as he thought about it too hard.

They were walking behind a group of adults, some who were cops, who all seemed to be headed towards the elevator. Dick  _ subtly _ looked at Jason, who  _ subtly _ nodded his head.

They got in the elevator. It was a tight fit but Jason had emphasized that under no circumstances should they get on the elevator by themselves. “It’s all about looks.” He’d explained “If they see us walk in with someone they’ll immediately think we’re in a group, they won’t give two shits about us. We’re kids, we’re always someone else’s problem.”

“We use that to our advantage?” Dick had asked, not quite understanding the intricacies of being underestimated.

“Now you’re getting it.”

The elevator dinged and everyone started getting out. They followed them out. 

Dick saw they were in some sort of office space. It was row after row of cubicles. Phones were ringing, people were talking loudly, some officers were sitting idly at their desks without much to do. Which was a strange sight, given the crime rate in Gotham, which was, as far as he understood it, the worst in the east coast.

Jason tugged at his collar to hold him back. He was about to protest, when Jason put his finger to his mouth. Dick nodded. Jason made a few hand signals, pointing at his eyes then at Dick doing a circular motion with his wrist over them; then he pointed back at himself then at the desks. Dick nodded again.  _ Lookout, got it. _

They started looking around the rows of cubicles, Jason looking through the desks and Dick keeping an eye out in case anyone was coming. Twice they had to dive under the desk as people approached them.

Eventually Jason whispered “Jackpot.” 

Dick took a glance at the nameplate next to Jason—‘ _ Harvey Bullock _ ’—then looked back out to the bullpen. “You find anything?”

“I’m looking, I’m looking.” He said, rummaging around the desk. There were folders in piles, one next to another. He heard a slow clacking. Jason clicked his tongue “Locked.” There was the sound of pages flipping. 

“Come on, Jason.” Dick said, growing impatient.

“I don’t even know what I’m looking for.”

Dick sighed then went towards him “That’s why Tim said to bring me, let me take a look.” He said taking the folder in Jason’s hands.

Jason pulled it back towards himself. “No, you’re supposed to be the lookout.”

“Maybe  _ you _ be the lookout and  _ I’ll  _ check the files!”

“Keep your voice down!” He hissed.

“What are you guys doing?”

They both turned sharply at the sound of the voice. It was a girl about their age, her face dashed with freckles and her red, bob-length hair sticking out of her ball cap. Her bright green eyes scanned over each of them distrustfully. 

Dick was holding a folder and he quickly hid it behind his back. “What? Nothing. Are we doing anything?”

“Not a thing.” Jason agreed.

“No…” she said, “you guys are definitely up to something. You look scummy.”

“Scu— Were not scummy! What does that word even mean? We’re just here to, um,” Dick looked at Jason for help.

“Report a stolen bike,” said Jason quickly.

“Right!” Dick nodded in agreement.

The girl looked unconvinced. “Nuh-uh, I saw the two of you acting all suspicious since you got off the elevator.”

“You were following us?”

“Yeah, the whole time.”

Jason hit Dick up the head. “Ow! What’s that for!”

“I told you to keep a lookout!”

“Well this is my first time doing it, can you blame me?”

“Whatever, cats out of the bag anyways.” Jason said crossing his arms “What’s your price?”

“You’re bribing her now?” Dick whispered bewildered.

The girl nodded her head towards Dick “What do you have there? What are you guys doing.” 

Dick sighed, then pulled the file out from behind him. Jason grasped it before it came into view of their new acquaintance. “What are you doing?” He said through gritted teeth.

“Your thing’s clearly not working, so I’m gonna do my thing now, which is to tell the truth.” Dick hissed.

Jason dragged his hand over his face with a groan and let go of the file.

“We’re looking for information on a case,” Dick said “we know Detective Bullock is in charge of the investigation, so...”

“Are you here to tamper with evidence?” The girl asked, crossing her arms. She looked imposing even though she was a few inches shorter than the both of them. “That's very illegal.”

“No, no! We want to help solve it!”

“Oh, why didn’t you say so before?” she relaxed almost immediately , to the surprise of both of them. She gave them another once over. “No offense, but you guys don't seem very bright. You should leave it to the cops, I think.”

“Offense taken.”

Dick elbowed Jason, who seemed to find the entire conversation a waste of time. “We have reason to think, there’s going to be an, uh” he racked his brain for the word Tim had used “a coverup. In the Haly’s Circus case.”

The girl frowned “That sounds serious.”

“Yeah, so, we need to look through these to make sure the bad guys get what they deserve,” he explained, “please don’t tell anyone we’re here.”

The girl thought about it for a second. “Got it, but…” she pointed at the desk, “you’re not going to find anything there.”

“What? Why?”

“The evidence is new,” she explained, “first it has to be processed and archived, they don’t just leave things on their desks. And if it's a new case then the case files are probably on the commissioner’s desk for him to read over.”

Dick blinked “How… how do you know all these things?”

“Cause I’m the Commissioner’s daughter.” The girl held out her hand “Barbara, but all my friends call me Babs.”

They shook her hand.“I’m Dick, this is Jason. It’s nice to meet you Babs.” Dick said.

“I didn’t say you could call me Babs.”

Dick floundered. He couldn’t keep up with this girl.

Barbara looked over the walls of the cubicle. “The evidence is kept over there,” she pointed at a room with tinted windows, “it’s kept locked for safety reasons.”

Dick despaired, there was no way they’d be able to get in. 

“Well then we’re fucked.” Said Jason, voicing his thoughts.

“Fret not. I’ll help you.” 

“You will?”

“Yeah, dads worried about corruption here, sometimes he doesn’t sleep well. Maybe if this case is solved, then he’ll feel better. So I’ll help if you guys promise you’re telling the truth.”

“Really? That’s it? Oof!” Jason complained as Dick digged his elbow into his side. “Stop  _ doing _ that!”

“One hundred percent telling the truth.” Dick smiled, crossing his chest with his fingers.

Jason held his side and glared at Dick. “We’ll do our best, I guess.”

“Good enough. Follow me,” She said walking out in the open. She walked with her head held high.

Dick and Jason quickly followed “Won’t they say anything if they see us here?” Dick hissed.

“Not at all, I’m here all the time.”

They followed her all the way to an office with glass walls covered with blinds. She let them in and went over to the desk. She flipped through a few files until she found what she was looking for “Here’s the file!” She held up a slim red folder. She rummaged through the desk and pulled out a ring of keys, “and here... are the keys to the evidence room.”

“Woah!” Exclaimed Dick. “Wait, whose office is this?”

“My dads, of course,” she turned the nameplate. It read ‘ _ James W. Gordon’. _

“This is crazy,” said Jason.

“One of you has to stay here and make copies of this file, because I can’t just let you take it,” she handed them the folder. “I can only bring one of you to the evidence room or well stand out too much.”

“I thought you said you were here all the time.”

Barbara rolled her eyes “Yes, but I don’t make a habit of sneaking into the evidence room... all the time,” she added belatedly.

“I guess I’ll—“ Dick began.

“You go, I’ll meet you by the elevator with the file.” Said Jason.

“Alright then?”

“Let’s go.”

Dick waved at Jason and followed Barbara out of the office. 

“Here’s what I don’t get, though. Why are you guys trying to solve this case?” She said, keeping her head down and starting for the evidence room.

“It’s… personal.”

Barbara looked back at him with understanding in her eyes. “Sounds complicated.” She looked at him for a few seconds longer then seemed to lose interest in the topic and continued to move forward.

They quickly crossed the bullpen and reached the evidence room. Barbara opened the lock with practiced deft and let them inside. 

“You don’t do this all the time, huh?” Dick said in a mocking tone.

“Shh! You’ll get us caught!” She pressed her face to the dark glass, cupping her hands on both sides. “I’ll keep an eye out, you look for whatever it is you need. Look for a list on the desk.”

Dick turned to the room, it was dark. He could barely make anything out in front of him, but he figured turning on the light was probably out of the question. 

He felt around with his hands until he touched the desk Barbara had mentioned. He opened one of the drawers and blindly rummaged around. He found a small cylinder. He clicked the flashlight on.

“Hurry!”

“I know!” He checked one of the papers in front of him with a list of codes, he didn’t understand them, but helpfully, next to them were the names of the person who’d registered them.

“Renee Montoya! Here it is!”

“Okay! Look at the name, first three letters are the row, the numbers are the box it’s in.” 

Dick memorized the code and moved towards the rows of shelves, brimming with labeled boxes. He walked alongside them, flashing the light on the letters and numbers. Eventually he found the box he’d been looking for.

He pulled it out, but it was heavy, so he set it on the floor. He opened it and regarded the contents inside. There were plastic bags holding in different items. One of them was a knife. It wasn’t a regular knife, it wasn’t too ornate but was clearly engraved by hand. Something tugged at his chest.  _ This is what was used to kill my parents? _

He set the knife carefully aside and riffed through the rest of the contents in the box. There was a set of pictures. He looked at them carefully. It was a shot of the wires of the high trapezes. The ends were frayed. He swallowed thickly.

“Hurry up!” Barbara Said, her voice sounding far away.

Dick snapped out of his reverie and started putting everything back on the box. He hoisted it up and put it back in place.

He turned, and was a second away from screaming when someone put a hand over his mouth forcefully, slamming him against the shelf. The flashlight fell out of his hands and all he could see were a pair of yellow eyes.

“You shouldn’t be here.” Came a voice like a whisper. It sounded like it was coming from inside of his head. 

Dick mumbled into the hand. The stranger removed his hand but before Dick could move, a long, cold blade was pressed against his throat. 

“I’m beginning to think… that you're not a cop.” Said Dick, then shut up as the blade was pressed closer. His eyes were adjusting to the light, though all he could see was a boy completely dressed in black, a flowing cape behind him like folded wings.

“Little boys shouldn’t be out playing detective.”

Dick looked at the figure, clearly shorter than him. “That’s a  _ little _ rich coming from you.”

The boy slammed Dick against the shelf again, the boxes rattled all around him. “Quit the japes. I could very easily drag you out there and hand you to the police if I wanted to. But I'm giving you a chance. Go.”

“W-Who are you.”

“...” Dick watched as a smile appeared under the eyes, all white and sharp canines. It was unnerving. “I’m just a Herald.” 

He turned sharply towards the exit at the same time Barbara called “Dick?”

When Dick returned his attention to the boy, he had vanished. Dick wondered for a second if he’d imagined it, but as he brushed his throat, he could feel the wetness of blood.

“Everything alright?” Said Barbara, walking out to him. He startled.

“Y-Yeah. Let’s go.”

* * *

 

Jason was standing around awkwardly next to the elevator, tapping his foot impatiently. He had his arms crossed, tight against his chest, to attempt to keep his jacket closed to conceal the files hidden within.

He glared at every person who even dared look at him, the last thing he needed was one of these cops to realize he shouldn’t be here in the first place. 

A couple of officers kept glancing in his direction while they talked by the water cooler. He could feel beads of sweat rolling down his forehead. He could feel their resolution solidifying by the second. A female officer parted from the group and started walking towards him and no amount of glaring was making her stop.

Right as the officer called “Hey…” he saw Dick and Barbara come running towards him, meeting him as the elevator doors opened.

The elevator emptied and they piled into it. He punched the lobby floor button furiously and watched the officer scratch her head in confusion, walking away as the doors closed.

He turned to Dick and Barbara, who were panting from the short run. “What the hell took you so long?!”

“Sorry…” gasped Dick. Even though he was  gasping from exertion his face had paled, he seemed shaken. Not that he'd blame him, this place wasn't his favorite.

“You got everything you needed?” Asked Barbara. Her hair was sticking out wilder than before and her cheeks were beet red. Dick nodded with his eyes closed tightly. Barbara smiled then looked at Jason as Dick didn’t seem composed enough to hold a conversation. “And you?”

Jason revealed the copied files out of his jacket. “Easy.”

“Good.” Barbara watched the number of the elevator change and rummaged in her pocket. “Here,” she handed him a piece of paper.

“What is it?” Said Dick who had regained his breath and was looking over Jason’s shoulder.

“That’s my email address, you can find me on messenger. If you need anything just send me a message there!” She beamed and the doors opened as their ride came to an end. She pushed them out of the elevator.

“The hells a messenger?” Asked Jason.

“You don’t know what messenger is?” She asked, disheartened. The doors of the elevator started to close but she pushed a button to keep them open.

“Why don’t you just give us your phone number?” 

“I don’t have a phone. My dad wouldn’t get me one.” She pouted. “And I’m not usually at home either, but I can use the computer at the library. Well, then nevermind.” She shrugged, then pointed at them threateningly “You better keep your word! My dads a cop I can find you if you don't!”

Dick laughed “Okay, we will! Thank you.” The doors of the elevator closed.

“That was close.” Jason turned towards Dick, but he seemed to be engrossed in the rising elevator numbers.

“Yeah, hopefully Tim got lucky too.” Dick said, snapping out of his reverie and looking at the watch above the stations exit “Let’s go meet him.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀  
> Wow two new characters in one chapter? TOTALLY trying to make up for the word count


	7. Chapter 7

When they arrived back at Tim’s house the sun was starting to set, the day had gone by them in a blur as they had walked all around the city since morning. They found Tim sitting on the steps to his front door, poking at an ant trail with a tree branch. He didn’t notice them approach, clearly lost in thought.

“Tim?” Probed Dick. “What’re you doing waiting out here?”

Tim blinked a few times and looked up at them with a goofy smile “I forgot I left you guys my keys…” he got up and patted his pants clean.

“Oh, here,” Dick said, handing him the keys.

They all went in after him and sat on the living room. Tim excused himself to acquire snacks and left Jason and Dick on their own. 

Jason threw the files on the coffee table and sprawled himself on the sofa, taking up all the space. His feet ached from all the walking. Dick sat beside him on the floor, folding his legs under himself. Jason closed his eyes; the sofa was unfairly comfortable, just the right amount of soft but firm. 

”Does he seem weird to you?” Dick whispered.

Jason cracked one of his eyes open to look at him, “I mean...“

“You know what I  _ mean _ .”

“Hmm… I can’t tell, I don’t know the kid.” He concluded, closing his eyes again. He could fall asleep right then and there, if Dick would let him. But he seemed intent on having this conversation.

“He just seems a bit upset, that’s all. Like something’s weighing on him.”

“He doesn’t seem any different from earlier.”

“That worries me too,” Jason heard rustling and when Dick spoke next his voice was clearly closer, “earlier when you guys were arguing outside his room I could hear everything… Do you think…”

“What? That he heard  _ us _ ?” Jason shrugged a shoulder “Maybe. Does it matter?”

“I said some pretty mean stuff then…”

“Sounds like a you problem then.”

Tim chose that moment to return, a tray of snacks in his hands. He put them on the table pushing the file aside to make space. Jason stretched and grabbed a bowl of chips.

“Is this the case file? You took it?”

“Jason made a copy.”

Tim hummed. 

“Listen, Tim…” Dick started, but Tim cut him off.

“Do you guys want to share what you learned or do I go first?”

Dick blinked and looked at Jason. Jason gestured at Dick to talk, since he himself didn’t know what he found in the evidence room. Plus he was too busy eating chips to use his mouth for anything else at the moment.

“Well,” Dick began, clearing his throat, “the police had some sort of knife among the evidence. I suspect they think it was used in some way to cause the accident.” He bit his thumbnail. “But I doubt that, we got through half of our act before…  _ before _ . If someone had cut the wires, they would have snapped at the beginning.”

“Remember what you told me before the show?” Dick tilted his head curiously “That you’d… do a special flip for me?” Tim said, fiddling with the tab of his soda can.

“The quadruple flip?”

Tim nodded, “A few of the performers seemed to think that’s when it happened. I can’t tell because I’ve never seen a quadruple flip.”

“I… Yeah, now that you mention it… we were just about to do the flip.”

“Do you guys use different swing-thingies for those?” Asked Jason.

“Um, yeah. The rings are higher and farther apart to allow us do it.”

“Well, I guess we can assume someone tampered with that specific structure knowing that you guys would be doing that flip.” Tim concluded. 

“But why that one?” Said Jason. “I mean, why not just cut some other one?”

“I’m guessing because that’s our most dangerous act… If they were trying to make it look like an accident, that’s probably why?” Dick thought about it for a moment. “There was a photo of the trapeze wires. The ends were frayed, like they were worn. But we always check everything before setting it up.”

“That's a bit contradictory… I mean cut wires look different from worn ones, though I guess only someone like you would know the difference since you're used to checking that specific type of equipment. But still, its weird.”

“Black Mask was probably trying to send a message?” Added Jason.

“It was probably only cut a bit so it would give under the weight of two people… No one would suspect anything then. Though I don’t understand why he would try to make it look like an accident. Whatever happened, it worked. Haly’s clearly spooked, the circus is opening back up in two days.”

“What? That’s… that’s too soon!” Said Dick sitting up.

“Yeah, none of the performers seemed keen on the idea.” Tim said. He looked at Dick for a moment, as if considering his next words carefully. “They, uh… they, they miss you. Very much.”

Dicks eyes became all shiny almost immediately. “They… talked about me?”

“Yeah. They said that… they were worried about you and that, uh, they wished you could be there with them? And that, uh, that they’re sorry.”

“Why are they sorry?” Dick said, his voice trembling slightly. “It’s not their fault.”

Tim seemed to be growing uncomfortable, squirming a little where he sat. “Just, for everything.”

Dick laughed. “That’s so silly,” he said, a few tears spilling from his eyes. “Sorry, do you mind if I use the bathroom?”

“No, not at all. It’s, the room on the left of the hallway. Next to the stairs.”

Dick got to his feet and mumbled a thank you before leaving. Both Tim and Jason watched him leave the room.

Jason turned to Tim “You good?”

“Huh? Yeah. Why wouldn’t I be?” He sipped on his soda, clearly avoiding to talk any more. Jason didn't care enough to press the issue, so he didn’t. Whatever it was that was eating him up was his business.

Dick eventually returned, his eyes and nose were slightly red but he was smiling embarrassedly. “Sorry, where were we?”

“Did you find out anything else?”

Dick shook his head “No, that's all that stood out to me, sorry. Oh! But,” he pulled out the piece of paper Barbara had given them, “we met the commissioners daughter. She gave us her address for, uh, ‘Messenger’ was it?” He asked Jason, he nodded. “She said to contact her in case we need anything else, but we don't really know…”

Tims eyes were wide as plates taking the paper in his hand. Whatever worries had been eating at him seemed to be lifted at the moment.“You met the commissioner's daughter? And she didn't rat you out?”

“Nah, she did threaten us though.” Said Jason.

“She was a huge help, we wouldn't have found the files without her.”

“Wow… Thats, thats awesome. I have a messenger too, i'll add her to my contacts later, she can probably keep us updated with the investigation.” Said Tim, pocketing the paper. “The commissioners daughter, wow.”

Jason grinned. “What, you got a crush on her?” Both Tim and Dick blushed at this. Jason bursted out laughing. Their faces were just too funny.

“N-N-No! Nothing like that! I just, I think the commissioner is really cool… I didn't know he had a daughter though.”

“Oh, so you prefer older guys? That's a crime, y’know?” Said Jason laughing even harder.

“Stop it!” Said Tim, blushing even harder. “That's not funny! I’m not--it's not like that!”

“Stop that, Jason.” Said Dick, though judging by his barely contained giggling he didn't really mean it.

“What are  _ you _ laughing about? Like you didn't get all jealous over mini Gordon just a second ago.”

“Why you—!” Cried Dick, snatching one of the pillows in the sofa and hitting Jason with it. Jason cackled madly.

“What is it with you guys and the Gordons that's got you all smitten?”

At some point Tim had joined Dick and was hitting Jason with another pillow. “I told you it's not that! The commissione is just a very respectable man, that's all!”

“I do  _ not _ have a crush on Barbara!”

“You sure? You guys took way too long in the evidence room on your own, ow! You sure you were just looking at evidence? Ouch!” He laughed.

“That's because there was a weird guy in there!” 

At once all the chaos stopped. Tim held his pillow high to hit Jason again, but his attention was now on Dick. “A weird guy?”

“Y-Yeah.” Admitted Dick, hugging his pillow. “It was dark, so I didn't see him very well but there was someone else in the evidence room.”

“And you didn't think to tell us about this earlier?” Said Jason sitting up.

“It just slipped my mind, alright?” He said defensively.

“Wait, wait! Tell me more about this guy. What was he like?”

“Uhm… he was definitely shorter than me. I could only see his eyes, but there were no pupils y'know? And they were yellow too.” He snapped his fingers. “He said he was a herald or something… oh, he also threatened me with a long knife.”

“Like a sword?!” said Tim excitedly, while Jason threw his hands in the air saying: “Oh, is that all!”

“I was in shock!”

‘Thats awesome...” said Tim in awe.

“That I got threatened with a knife?”

“What? No! Of course not! That's the opposite of awesome.” He said unconvincingly. “I wonder if he's some new vigilante.” He mumbled, then frowned as if he was seeing them for the first time. “What are you guys  _ wearing _ ?”

Jason looked at his and Dicks clothes, he wouldn't be able to put it into words if he tried for a coherent answer. Dicks pants were now shorts, with the ends frayed, while Jasons were riddled with holes, patched up on the inside with fabric from a different pair. The shirts had already been relieved of their sleeves when they got them, however.

“Is that my school uniform?” He pointed at Jason, then at Dick “Did you cut my dress pants and made them into booty shorts?”

“Oh, please. Don't look like that. It's a uniform, you have a lot of these.” Appeased Jason.

“I really don’t though?”

“I'm really sorry Tim, I told Jason we shouldn't, but…”

“It—Its fine.” Tim shook his head, though he seemed amused. “It looks really cool...”

“Yeah, it's a miracle really. You have shit taste in clothes and your outfits go from reject rock band wannabe to ghost of an old oil business magnate with absolutely no inbetween” Dick gave Jason a pointed look but he ignored him. It was fun to mess with Tim. “And so, we just kinda went freestyle here.”

“Hey! Lay off! My clothes are… just fine!”

“No, its fine, you can't help what your mom gets you to wear, it's the rich kid tragedy.”

“You guys wouldn't have been able to wear what my mom really gets me anyways.” Tim mumbled with his cheeks puffing up. Jason couldn't help but laugh. Dick elbowed him. 

“Well, if you ever need advice on how to look awesome like this,” Dick gestured towards his gaudy looks, “then don't be afraid to ask.”

“I shall be in your care, sir!” Tim saluted.

“Yeah, yeah.” Jason yawned. 

“You guys must be tired… why don't you stay over? We can keep going tomorrow.” He said, gesturing towards the unopened file.

Dickgot to his feet and stretched. “What about your parents?” He threw his pillow at Jason.

“Oh, you know, they won't mind. They let me have friends over like, all the time.” Tim rolled his eyes. “You guys can have my room, the beds big enough for two.”

Jason wasn't about to argue, but Dick said “What about you?”

“I'll sleep here,” he patted the sofa Jason was sitting in, “it turns into a bed. Don't worry.”

“Alright, we’ll talk more tomorrow. Come on Jason.” Dick said, patting Jason in the leg a few times.

Truth be told he was way too comfortable to move, even though the prospect of sleeping on an actual bed were intriguing. Dick patted him a few more times and he groaned. “You go first…” he waved Dick away.

Dick sighed, “If you don’t get up Tim can’t use the couch.”

“Oh, I’m going to clear the dishes first, it’s fine.”

“You want any help?”

“No, no. We have a dishwasher, see?”

Jason listened to their voices grow fainter and farther away. His eyes had closed at some point, and he was aware of this, but he couldn’t make himself open them again. He didn’t realize how tired he was. But thinking about it it was sort of obvious why. He’d just spent the night before watching over Dick as he wandered around his theater, to make sure he wouldn’t find his things. And then he’d followed him around all day. Not to mention the day before at the circus. He was exhausted and before he could stop himself he’d fallen asleep.

Jason opened his eyes in what to him felt like a few seconds. He was disoriented for a moment, looking at an unfamiliar ceiling. He sat up and groaned, rubbing his stiff neck; it was going to bother him for the rest of the day.

He took off the blanket someone must have put over him at some point and looked around the room. It was dark and quiet, not a sound to be heard but the rustle of trees outside and some owl hunting nearby.

He noticed a sliver of light come from the door behind him and walked out of the room and through the hallway. In the kitchen he found Tim, sitting at the kitchen counter.

Tim heard him enter the kitchen and turned to him “Hey!” It’s still early, you can go back to sleep.” He said in a soft voice.

“I’m parched.” Said Jason, his voice barely coming out.

“There’s water in the fridge.”

“Thanks.” He fished out a bottle of water and uncapped it. He drank about half of it before stopping for some breath. “You haven’t gone to bed?”

“Oh, you know…” he gestured in front of him, we’re the files were scattered messily “can’t sleep when I’ve set myself to something.”

Jason sat in front of him. “Couldn’t wait til morning?” He raised an eyebrow as Tim gathered some of the papers and dragged them towards himself.

“Yeah.” He chuckled then cleared his throat. “But, I was going to turn in soon.” He smiled, though he didn’t make a move to leave.

“Mhm. Well, goodnight then.” 

“Yep. Goodnight!”

They both sat there staring at each other, Tim with his trembling smile and Jason with his bored gaze. Tim’s eyes were clearly starting to water so Jason decided he’d had enough.

“Goodnight, Tim.” Jason repeated.

“Right!” He laughed weakly, taking a bunch of the papers off the table and then arranging them back on in a neat stack. “I was just… checking these. Because I was curious. But now I’m done… with that.” He yawned dramatically and got to his feet. “Boy, am I tired! Goodnight then!” 

Jason finished his bottle of water, following Tim with his eyes as he slowly backed away from the table, facing Jason the entire time. He took the opportunity to move quickly behind him as Tim turned to leave and took hold of his wrist.

 Jason pressed him against a wall and twisted his arm behind him. Tim was letting out strangled cries of pain, though somehow still keeping his voice down. “Ow, ow, ow, ow!!! Owie! You’re way too strong, what the hell?!”

Jason looked Tim over, his hand was wrapped tightly around a piece of paper. “What do you have there, Tim?”

“Nothing! It’s nothing! It’s—OW! That  _ hurts, _ damn you!” He cried out as Jason twisted his hand further.

“Keep your voice down, or you're going to wake him up.” 

“You’re gonna break my hand! Okay! Okay! I’ll give it to you. Just… let me go, okay?”

Jason considered for a moment then let Tim go, giving him a little bit of space, though not enough that he'd be able to leave. Tim cradled his hand and threw Jason a dirty look, which he wasn’t impressed with. 

“Fine, here.” He handed the paper to Jason dejectedly. He snatched it out of his hand.

He had to pause. It was a photo—a crime scene photo to be exact. It was the first time he’d seen the bodies of the Graysons. It wasn't by far the most grizzly scene he'd come across--he lives in crime alley after all--but it was pretty high up there. By all accounts, it was a horrible, nightmare inducing sight, so it begged the question, why was Tim taking it?

He glanced up at him, slumped against the wall, rubbing his hand all the defiance had gone out of him almost instantly. Now he just seemed pitiful and guilty.

“Okay,” Jason began, “you have three seconds to begin explaining why you had this and it better be a satisfying answer, cause this,” he lifted the photo, “doesn't look good.”

Tim blushed, his eyes going wide “I-It's not what you think! I- I-” he stuttered.

“I- I- I-” Jason mimicked. “Come on, Tim. Tell me you don't collect these like you collect Batman pics. One was already bad enough, this is bordering on psychotic.”

“No, I just— what?” he shook his head in disbelief “Why would taking photos of Batman make me a psychopath, that doesn't make sense!”

“I don't know Timmy, some kids have normal pastimes, like playing video games or collecting stamps, you go out searching for a dude who beats the shit out of people every night.” Tim spluttered unintelligibly. “And that's beside the point, explain. Now.”

Tim seemed to want to argue more on the previous point, judging by the strain in his face, but he sighed and said, “I didn't want him to see it.”

“Who? Dick?”

“Yeah, I just, today was an eye opener. Seeing the open grief of all these performers, I… I had no idea. And I realized I had been so insensitive all this time, to Dick. I thought I was helping him, but I didn't consider how he must have been feeling, not even once. No wonder he hates me,” he said, mumbling the last part.

Jason cringed, he wasn't good at the whole ‘comforting’ thing but here he was, doing it again. “He doesn't hate you…”

“Well, I wouldn't blame him if he did. You know, I thought he was being stupid, still wanting to go back there when I had  _ just _ told him he was in danger. I didn't say it but I thought it. But of course he wanted to go back, be with his family. They all... together they were finding the strength to move forward. And because of me Dick didn't get to do that. Because of me he hasn't had the consolation he probably needs. Because I didn't stop to consider he might need someone at his side right now, someone he trusts. All because I thought that was a stupid thing to want.” 

“Hey now,” Jason attempted to reach out, but Tim wasn't looking at him, getting more worked up as he went on.

“I sent him on a crusade that might get him killed anyways, get all of us killed! Well all die and it'll be my fault. And, and it'll be on the papers for sure.” He sighed, his voice growing softer again. “Maybe it would have been better to just let him go, at least he would have been with his family in his last moments; and i have no idea what your deal is or why you're here, but you probably have stuff to live for too! Maybe, maybe it's not too late! You can all--”

“Hey, enough.” Jason pushed Tim against the wall again, finally grabbing his attention. “None of that matters. He chose to be here and I'm willing to bet he considered blowing you off, but he's here now, making the choice to stay at every moment. I'm here because… it seemed to be the right thing to do; I'm still figuring things out as I go, but i'm sure of that much. Just like you.” He held Tims gaze unwaveringly. “You didn't make me come, and you didn't make him either. So, get. Over. Yourself.”

He watched him for a moment, Tim seemed unconvinced but didn't argue either, so Jason guessed that was the end of that conversation.

“Here,” he pressed the picture against Tims chest. He trusted he knew what to do with it, but either way it was his choice to make. “I'm going to sleep, you should too.”  He left the kitchen without looking back at Tim.

He entered Tims room and carefully made his way around whilst his eyes adjusted to the dark. The shy bits of moonlight that managed to paint the room a dull blue allowed him to see Dicks silhouette, sleeping in the far corner of Tims bed, his breathing coming evenly.

“You're awake, aren't you?” he whispered. 

He waited for a reply, but when none came he approached the bed. He carefully took out the object hed retrieved from home earlier, the dark metal shone in the moonlight. Quickly, he hid it deep under the bed and looked back at Dick. He was still sleeping.

He got in under the covers next to him and tried to relax. It was way more comfortable than the couch, yet somehow he couldn't reconcile his sleep. He kept thinking about his talk with Tim and everything that had happened in the past few days. The reason why he was still there instead of minding his own business. It was out of character for him, he thought.

He turned to the side and looked at Dicks sleeping face for a moment. He was sleeping, yes, but his brow was furrowed and his mouth pressed in a thin line.

“Idiot, what are you having nightmares for?” Jason whispered, reaching out his hand to press it against Dicks forehead. “We said we'd help you, didn't we?” He rubbed at the worry and brushed his hair aside, whatever nightmare had been having only lasted a few moments, before his face finally relaxed. 

It's not like he pitied Dick, or that he was curious about the case. Maybe, he considered, it had less to do with them and more to do with the alternative. All he did was survive, every day, he survived. Tim had said he had something to live for, but he wondered about that. 

It was too late for Jason, he tried to keep whatever shred of innocence he thought he ought to have but Gotham had corrupted him; he could tell, anyone could tell. He was beyond hope. But Dick was different from him, he had everything to live for. And he wouldn’t let Gotham take that away from him. He looked to the edge of the bed, and pictured the gun he'd hidden before, nestled between shoeboxes and errant clothes.

“Whatever it takes.”

 

* * *

They reconvened in the kitchen the next morning over a nice, varied breakfast of cereal and juice. Both Dick and Jason looked like they wouldn’t oppose a few more hours of sleep but they probably just wanted to get the investigation over with.

“Okay,” Tim began, organizing the files in front of him if only to give himself something to do with his hands, “I read through the file, I can definitely say with one hundo percent certainty that the police knows something dirtys going on.”

“They probably came to that conclusion because they saw the cut wire,” Jason said between spoonfuls of cereal, “of course they think something stinks.”

“Which probably lead to them finding that knife nearby.”

Tim nodded, “It's a shame we don’t know more about it, but it’s too soon I suppose.” He caught Dicks confused gaze and explained. “The knife itself can tell us many things, for example if it had someone’s fingerprints or not. But these kinds of tests take time, because of proper protocol and stuff and the evidence is fairly new. It’s too bad they don’t do things like in CSI, where every test is done the same day. The police juggle a lot of cases at once, so it’s… kind of a mess, really.”

“No surprises there.” Said Jason. “Besides they’re keeping pretty hush-hush about this, so that’s not helping.”

“And that is very suspicious. Anyways, failing that, we can also learn a lot from the type of knife. Like a serial number, learn roughly where it was obtained… but that’s hard too because you’d need tons of access, like James Bond.”

“Or Batman.”

“Or Batman, yeah.”

“But, I can’t help but think the knife seemed familiar.” Said Dick with a pensive look. “Something about the handle.”

“Is it possible it came from the circus?”

“Hmmm, weapon of opportunity… that doesn’t really fit with Black Mask…”

Jason pushed his empty bowl aside “No, but he was trying to send a message, I thought.” 

“Okay, yeah, that makes sense.” Tim frowned, biting his nails. Since they already knew Black Mask was behind it, every piece of evidence seemed to fit right in with the rest of the puzzle, but he couldn’t help but feel wrong about it. Perhaps because it was too insubstantial, especially for someone so high profile like Black Mask. The police wouldn’t be able to get to him with this much.

He lifted up his gaze and noticed Dick was looking through the files as they had fallen silent. He felt his heart jump to his throat. He caught Jason’s eyes, he seemed calm and he probably knew what was going through his head. He’d barely slept trying to decide what to do with the crime scene photos, in the end he’d done what he thought was best and left them where Dick could find them. Doesn’t mean he didn’t still feel guilty about it.

He expected an explosion of emotion. A dam that had been cracking for days just giving out to the pressure Tim had put him into. But Dick calmly scanned the pages, though he paused every now and then. Finally he said, “There’s a bunch of phone numbers here… the detectives’?”

“Wha—? Where?” He asked, though he already knew what he meant—he’d read the file several times—but his brain was still trying to catch up.

“Here.” Dick showed him the page.

“Those are Halys phone records. He offered them to the police himself.”

“What they need his phone records for?” Asked Jason.

“Hmm… maybe he’s trying to tip off the police on the DL. It’s only logical really, if this is blackmail.” He pointed out two strings of numbers “I think these are our best bet, they have Gotham’s area codes and are fairly recent. No way to tell if they’re both related to Black Mask or if he used a burner phone..”

“And there is no way to find out? Like on a phone book?”

“What do you expect to find there? Black Mask under Marshall but above Mason?” Mocked Jason. “Besides those are probably cell phones.”

“Yes… which is why I propose we call them.”

“...”

“... You’ve really lost it haven’t you?”

“No, no, no! Hear me out! It’s easy, we pretend we’re an adult they’ll never ever think it’s us. And even if they do, they’ll just think it’s a prank call. No foul!”

“You’re awfully confident about this plan.”

“Pretending to be someone you're not is what you gotta do to go up in society. I learned that from my parents… and also Neopets.”

“Neo-What?”

“What’s—“

“Anyways, I’m calling now!” He declared and dialed the first number from the kitchen phone, which was met with many objections from the other two boys until Tim shushed them “It’s ringing!” He hissed.

“This is a bad idea.”

“You  _ think?” _

_ “Gallant speaking.” _

“Ah, yes!” Tim squeaked before clearing his voice and going for a deeper tone “Yes, Mr. Gallant!” He repeated, then mouthed the words ‘write it down’ to the other two boys. “Hi, I’m… speaking on behalf of Haly,” he shrugged at Dicks panicked look, “I believe you’ve met?”

_ “You people again? Don’t tell me you changed your mind about our deal again. I’m not a goddamn fairy godmother.” _

“Our deal? I’m sorry but—“

“ _ Oh, so now the wise guy’s trying to act like he don’t know nothing. Listen,  _ **_pal_ ** _ , you might be a fucking clown, but here in Gotham we take things seriously. _

_ “Now I think I’ve been pretty generous to you peoples, but I’m reaching the end of the goddamn rope with you, man.” _

“S-Sorry.” Tim looked at the other two with uncertainty. He’d never been cussed this much in, well, ever! But Gallant kept talking.

_ “First you want me to rent you the place for one week, I says okay. Then you want me to give you more time. Who do you think you are asking these things last minute. What if I had someone else already lined up for that vacant lot? But I do it, cause I’m a nice guy, yknow? I’m nice.” _

“You are… very nice, yes.”

_ “Yes, so guess what a nice man like me thinks when I start hearing rumors and then I realize your payments late, huh? I help you out and this is what I get? You and I gonna have some trouble. You either get square with me or the next time we talk a lawyers gonna be involved, you dig?” _

“I do… dig.” Tim said, but Gallant had already hung up. “Huh.”

“So? What did he say?”

“I think that was the guy who rented the lot to Haly. Where the circus is.”

“I see… so it wasnt Black Mask.”

“No, but he did say something interesting. Apparently Haly had originally rented the lot for only one week.”

“What?!” Dick interrupted. “That's… odd. We usually stay in one place for a few months.” He said, tapping his chin pensively “Besides it took us a few days to put everything together, if we really only had a week secured wed only be able to perform a few times…”

“And if we think about it, Haly stood to lose more from that sort of arrangement.” Continued Tim. “Apparently he was tight on cash, if he spent that much money on the location only to perform a few times then leave…”

“He'd be left on the red,” concluded Jason, crossing his arms, “this confirms one thing,” both Dick and Tim looked at him intently, “he was forced to come here, probably from an outsider, circus and all.”

There was a pause. 

Tim twirled the phone cord awkwardly “So… should I call the other number?”

“Now hold on a second,” said Dick holding out his hand, “you didn’t even ask us before you did it before!  _ Now  _ you ask?”

“Well, it might be Black Mask for real this time.”

“Tim. It could have been Black Mask for real the  _ first _ time! You’re- Youre- You’re using you house number for goodness sakes! Isn’t that scary?”

“Yeah, dude, what if they like, find out we called from here and they come here, beat you up.”

“Believe me,” Tim said with a shudder, “that is not something I didn’t consider, but im willing to risk it. I just can't think of a better way to do this...”

“Idiot. Come on.” Said Jason walking out of the kitchen, then out of the house. Dick gave Tim a reproaching look and they both followed Jason.

He had walked a few ways down the street and was waiting for them nearby the corner. “Here.” He pointed at the huge, ancient box beside him.

Tim slapped his forehead, “Of course! The phone box! It didn’t even cross my mind. Do these things still work? What a dinosaur.” He walked over and slid open the door. It creaked a little but it was perfectly serviceable.

Jason shrugged. “This area’s pretty swanky. No ones stolen the receiver yet. Plus,” he pointed overhead, “there’s a camera nearby because it’s a school area.”

“Woah, I hadn’t noticed all that when we first came. Had you come around here before?” Said Dick with open awe in his voice.

“Nah, I just find these things naturally.”

“Yeah, looking for security cameras and assessing if a place is good for thieving sure is an honorable set of skills you’re obtained.” Said Tim dryly, a smile playing on his lips. Jason narrowed his eyes but returned the smile, with perhaps a few more teeth. “I’ll dial now.”

“Wait!” Called Dick, catching Tim’s wrist before he put in the coins. They had cluttered inside the tiny box at some point and personal space had become a luxury none of them could afford at the moment. “Do you have to mention Haly?

_ Ah _ . Tim had thought about this one too, but as with the phone booth, this one didn’t have a simple solution. “Yeah… sorry. As much as I want to catch Black Mask, I’d like to stay a little bit  ignorant to whatever his other current crimes might be, if possible.” He tried for a smile. He felt bad for doing this to Dick, again and again, but he hoped he understood. “Besides we need a clear connection with the circus, Halys our only option.”

“I… I understand…” he let go of Tim’s hand.

Tim gave him what he thought passed as a reassuring look and put in the coins, dialing the number. Both Dick and Jason craned their necks to try hear both sides of the conversation this time, making the arrangement even more cramped.

The line rang for a long time, and Tim thought it was about to go to the voicemail when there was the telltale noise of someone picking up, though no one said anything.

“Hello… I’m calling about…” Tim tried to think of a way to imply Haly was involved without implicating him altogether. “Have you heard from Haly?”

They all held their breath, trying to catch whatever the person on the other side of the line might say. Eventually a rough voice responded shortly with “Boss is not interested in new deal,” then hung up.

They all blinked in disbelief as the line had gone dead with no chances to retry. 

“That’s it?!” Dick complained, “That’s it?! That’s all we get? That’s nothing!” He flailed, catching the other two in their faces.

Jason grumbled and slid open the door with great effort as they were all sort of in the way. They poured out onto the street both of them in a foul mood.

Tim tried to appease them “No, no this is good!” He said, which earned him a few rotten glares “I mean, not  _ good _ , but it’s  _ something _ ! Think about it! He said ‘boss is not interested in a new deal’ this tells us lots of things!”

Jason plopped down on the curb and motioned his way “Okay, explain.”

“Okay, first, we know who boss probably means, Black Mask. Second, we know there  _ is _ a deal regarding Haly. Third, Haly tried to renegotiate, which means the deal is still going but Haly tried to push back. This is a very clear motive! All we need to know is what  _ it _ is and were done!”

“And how do we do that?” Mumbles Dick, who had sat next to Jason and buried his face under his arms.

“Um… well…”

“We could beat the shit out of him and make him tell us.” Jason said, with the same nonchalance one would suggest going on a camping trip. His suggestion was so outrageous, Dick had jumped out of his funk simply to look at Jason like he’d grown a second head. Tim couldn’t help but slowly turn to him with a look of abject horror.

“What?” He defended himself, poorly, in Tim’s opinion. “You  _ said _ you wanted to go at this like Batman! Well, that’s what Batman does!”

“Not like that! I meant with smarts and cunning, like a detective!”

“Yeah, and then when he hits a snag he punches some dudes and suddenly there’s a new inmate in Arkham.”

“That… might be true sometimes. But, he’s like, a ninja fighter! And 8 feet tall! And he can jump on roofs! We,” he gestured wildly at the three of them to make his point more evident “don’t have any of that!”

“I can jump on roofs.” Said Dick, jumping into the pool of madness. Tim turned to him shocked and saw that he seemed to be  _ actually  _ considering it. 

“You can't be serious.”

“And I can fight.” Said Jason, without lacking even a drop of self confidence. “I’m pretty good.”

“You’ve both gone mad. Oh god, I’ve broken them!” Cried Tim, running his hands down his face.

“And you’re very ninja like,” added Dick, with made Tim pause his hysterics for a moment, “I mean you took all these pictures of Batman and he didn’t notice? That’s something.”

He couldn’t help the heat going to his cheeks at the praise. “I… suppose. But still were three different people! Fighting a criminal isn’t a three—uh,” he counted with his fingers for a moment, “four-legged race!”

“Maybe it can be.” Dick said, incomprehensibly.

“Ok, you’ve lost me.”

“I can teach you guys how to flip around, Jason can teach us how to fight and you can teach us how to stay hidden.” He’d grown increasingly convinced through his explanation and was now standing up to his full height.

“This… this is crazy.”

“Are you going to give up now?” Asked Jason, getting to his feet languidly. “It’s worth a try.”

Tim was unconvinced, but he was also outnumbered, and he didn’t need his mom to teach him he better just go with it. He had a bad feeling about it.

So why did he feel excited?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tim cant be comic relief all the time  
> Lots of things happen in this chapter! Even though its just a “heres the facts” chapter, it was fun to write because of the limited way they acquired the information.   
> But were done with all that detective stuff now, time to punch some dudes! Or not?  
> Let me know your thoughts!


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OH I wanted to say! Thank you so much for the kind messages! They’re really motivating!

“I can’t believe I’m bringing more people in here, I’ve truly become stupid.” Jason murmured just loud enough to be heard by the other two, when he led them through the cavernous hallways of the Monarch.

Dick felt bad for asking him to lend them this place, sharing what must be a sacred space with more people than he was probably comfortable with. Still, they needed room to practice—or rather, train—and they couldn’t very well do it at Tim’s house, lest they break something more valuable that their lives.

Jason guided them all the way to the main stage, all the while Tim muttered things like “This is structurally unsound,” or “That can't be safe,” or “How is this place even standing?” and other such negative sounding comments. 

“Relax,” Dick reassured him, “I did some stunting around here, I came out mostly unscathed.”

“Mostly?!” Tim choked out, his face growing pale.

“Alright, we’re here. Jason climbed up the stage just in front of them and sat cross-legged on the floor, Tim took his lead and sat gingerly on one of the front row seats. “What now?” They both looked at Dick, which was a lot of pressure; but fair, as he'd been the one to suggest this in the first place.

Dick scratched the back of his neck. He hadn't thought about it in detail, but he had a pretty good idea of what he wanted to achieve. Surely they could come up with something more detailed together. 

“Okay, I think mostly what we discussed earlier. We teach each other what we know so we can get better at fighting criminals. We need all the advantages we can get, since… were just a bunch of kids after all.” He paused his speech for a second to take a peek at their faces, they didn't seem to disagree so far, which was good. “We can’t stop full grown adults with just sheer force because of that. We need to be smart and we have to be quick! Um,” he fidgeted in place for a moment as he quickly ran out of words, he’d never been the sort to make big inspirational speeches. “So!” He clapped his hands together, not missing the way the other two jumped at the sudden sound (as much as Jason tried to stifle it.) “I guess I'll start!”

Jason got to his feet, apparently excited for whatever came next.  _ That's right, _ Dick remembered,  _ he did ask me to teach him some stunts before _ . Tim on the other hand still looked on the line between uncertain and curious. He would work with what he had.

“Alright,” said Dick, climbing up to the stage, followed by Tim, “lets see…” He inspected the stage area. It was more or less intact, with the exception of a few planks that had given in to the understage area. He walked towards the largest, most well preserved area and stood there with his hands on his hips. “Okay! Line up in front of me!”

And so they did. Jason seemed to find Dicks authoritative tone extremely amusing, which made Dick feel a tad self conscious. He coughed into his fist, then moved towards them. He arranged them farther apart from each other and then inspected his work, pretending he wasn't stalling for time to think what to do next. “Yes, yes. Very good. Okay. First I'm going to teach you how to stretch properly.” Tim groaned. “What?”

“Nothing…”

“Like I was saying… you need to learn to stretch before stunting. Can’t have you pulling any muscles! Besides, it will help you get more flexible.”

He taught them a few basic stretches and helped them get proper positions. Tim was more flexible than Jason, probably because he was younger, but he had less stamina and couldn’t hold a position for as long. Jason was sloppy but he managed to stay in place for longer periods of time without cramping.

Hed given them a few moments to rest up before picking the exercising back up. “Okay, these are the basics. But you need to keep doing these exercises regularly or you’ll get all stiff. And now…” he wondered what would be the best thing to teach first, perhaps a handstand or a backflip? “Oh! I'll teach you how to do a kick up!”

They stared at him curiously as he laid himself on the floor, it was a bit dusty but he didn't mind. He addressed them from where he laid on his back. “I'm guessing we're gonna be doing a lot of falling, this is a pretty quick way to get to your feet.” He braced his hands to each side of his head and flexed his legs over his torso; then, he swung back, springing himself up with his arms at the same time as he kicked his legs out. “Ta-da!” he said as he landed on his feet.

“WHOAH!”

“YO!”

“LIKE IN THE MOVIES!”

“Me next!”

“Wait, no! Do it again!”

Dick smiled. This was going to be fun.

A few hours later found them more knowledgeable about basic stunts and falling on their asses, which was pretty good in Dicks opinion. “I think that's enough of that for one day,” he declared, and the other two boys sprawled on the floor panting, they cheered with their fists in the air. Dick plopped himself down on the floor with them and sighed. It had been awhile since he'd been this active, it felt good. But, in reality, he realized, it had only been a few days. He missed it.

He could feel his mood growing darker, even though just a second ago he'd been having so much fun. 

“Anyone hungry?” Tim asked, which made both Dick and Jason perk up. His stomach chose that moment to growl loudly and he blushed, he hadn't realized how hungry he was until Tim mentioned it. 

Tim laughed at the reaction and walked towards his backpack, left at the edge of the stage. He lifted up a few baggies. “I got juice and sandwiches.”

They all sat up next to each other in a circle—or rather, in a triangle—and Tim passed over the food. Dick tackled the juice box first, he was exhausted, and the grape Hi-C really brought him back. He snickered as he noticed what Tim was doing.

“Are you taking the border off the sandwich? Really?”

Tim flinched, caught redhanded as hed been meticulously striping off the edge off his bread. “I-I don't like the texture, okay?”

“Damn waste if you ask me!” Said Jason, quickly breaking off a piece of Tims long strip of bread and popped it in his mouth.

“Hey!”

“You werent gonna eat it anyways.” Jason said through a mouthful of food.

“Still! You could have waited ‘til i had trimmed all of it! I made such a nice, long strip...”

“Here,” Dick offered his own sandwich, which made Tim blink at him, “you can take the edge off my bread if you want.” He tried to stay serious but Tims subsequent sputtering sent him into a laughing fit.

Jason squeezed his own juice box empty and got to his feet with an energetic jump. “Alright! Let's keep going! I'm gonna nail that backflip this time!”

A few hours later the two of them had mastered a few basic flips, as well as improved their balancing. Dick thought it was really promising progress after just one day. It really did help that they were so enthusiastic to learn, specially Jason.

“Maybe I could teach you some handsprings.” Dick said. 

“Yeah, but next time’s  _ my _ turn to teach.” Jason interjected. “Gonna put you through hell, circus boy,” he grinned wickedly.

“Yes, about that,” Tim hoisted up his backpack, “I, uh…”

“You bailing already? Too tough for you?” Asked Jason. Dick was disheartened but still elbowed Jason on the side.

“No! No, no such thing. This is… it’s actually really fun. I had,” he seemed uncertain, a slight blush coming to his cheeks, “I had a lot of fun. And it’s for a good thing. It’s just, uhm…”

“Out with it already!”

“Yeah, you can tell us, we won’t judge you.”

“I, uh, I sort of… have to go to school, you know.”

Oh.  _ Oh.  _ Dick exchanged a look with Jason and it seemed he hadn’t thought about that either.

“I know we talked about meeting every day, but... I just had a long weekend, these past few days. I have to start going to school next, uh, tomorrow, actually.” He looked down at his shoes. “I have club stuff too and homework, and well, my parents, you know how it is…”

“No, but I can imagine,” said Jason pensively. “So you really can’t come in?”

“Oh! That’s not what I’m saying at all! I sneak out of the house all the time. Batman stuff, you know all that. Just, I would only be around for a few hours late at night.”

“That’s… that’s okay?” Dick said, unintentionally wording it as a question. “We can probably make do until you come around.”

“Yeah, I also have stuff I have to do in the daytime so that’s no problem, I think.” Added Jason. 

Dick blinked at him for a few moments then looked back at Tim who seemed a bit reassured.  _ I see, I’m gonna be alone for a while.  _ It was only now that he realized he’d been together with someone ever since he ran away from the circus.  _ That’s ok though, it’s just a few hours a day, it’s fine. _

“Okay. I’ll bring you guys food and stuff too! So you don’t worry about that.”

“Sweet.”

“Well, I’ll be seeing you then.”

“See you tomorrow.”

“See ya.” Jason turned to him “I’m gonna head home too,” he paused. “You gonna be okay on your own?”

“Oh! Yes, yes of course.” Said Dick, looking back behind him towards the darkened Monarch.

“You sure?”

Dick turned sharply to face Jason and nodded with a hum. “Sure! I’ll be fine. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Jason didn’t seem completely convinced, but after a moment he nodded and left, following Tim’s tracks. 

Dick took a deep breath, then another. It was going to be a long night.

Dick returned to the inside of the Monarch, quickly making his way to the main stage and jumping down towards the rows of seats. He didn’t remember very well in which seat he'd left his things—a lunchbox, courtesy of Tim and a blanket from Jason—but he figured he'd better look for it while it was still light out.

He looked up at the ceiling. There were many holes where the light managed to trickle in, but it had already gotten fainter.

He finally located his things on the third row and dug in to the food. It tasted pre-made, but he was so hungry he didn’t care. They'd had a really eventful day after all. He wondered how long it'd take them to take down Black Mask. He didn't even know what the man looked like. All this time he imagined someone wearing a completely pitch black mask, with slits for the eyes.

Somehow, that image reminded him of the little “Herald” hed met the day before at the police station. But he was too small to be a criminal mastermind, surely. Though maybe he worked for him. It was no coincidence that they’d met where they did. But he’d threatened to hand him over to the police… he couldn't make heads or tails of it. Gotham was too complicated.

He wrapped himself in the blanket and shivered. He was all alone with his thoughts in this dark place. It made him think of Gepetto inside of a whale, separated from his only son, fearing he might never see him again and might never get out of the belly of the whale where he’d live his last years alone. Except in this case, he supposed, he was Pinocchio? But he didn’t know exactly where “becoming a real boy” fit in his own metaphor. He’d never been good at this kind of thing.

He wondered how everyone was doing back at the circus. He knew, deep down, that if he wanted he could just walk out of the theater and go to, at least, watch from a distance. But everyone was working hard for his sake and he didn’t want to make all those efforts go to waste.

So he imagined a normal day in the circus. Halys voice loud and booming through the big top. The clowns prancing around making fools of themselves, as they’re wont to do. One act after another, everyone holding smiling faces. Him, soaring upwards, his arms spread forward for his parents to catch him.

To catch him, but they never do. He comes up too short and he’s the one falling this time. He watches his parents frozen in time, their hands outstretched towards him but already getting farther and farther away. 

He braces himself to hit the ground but he’s past it now. The cheery music becomes muffled and he sinks further and further. He keeps sinking, looking up from below as the circus kept going without him. Except his parents, stuck in time at that fateful moment, their faces no longer visible. And he kept sinking until he couldn’t see the circus anymore, only pitch black darkness. It felt surreal, like sinking in water that’s somehow too thick, like quicksand. 

He shook awake at the sound of rustling somewhere above him. It was dark like his dream but he felt the seat under him and the blanket around him. He vaguely recalled the dream but couldn’t remember exactly what, the remnants of it already fading from his tired mind. There was a sound again. He looked up and saw dust falling down slowly as his eyes adjusted to the darkness.

 He got up, wrapping himself tightly with the blanket.“Jason?” He called warily. “Is it you?” There was no answer. “Did you forget something? Jason?”

He looked around but didn't find anything that looked different. He started to think he’d probably imagined it. As he turned back to his seat, he found a familiar figure, perched on top of the back of the seat, looking right at him.

Dick screamed in surprise, backing up and toppling backwards into the row of seats behind him. He righted himself into a kneeling position and tried to get his breathing under control. He rubbed his eyes harshly and slowly got up, carefully looking over the back of the seat he had landed on.

Sure enough, the dark figure, the boy from before, was still there looking at him. He couldn't make out what expression he was making, or anything at all. He seemed to blend in with the darkness around him. If anything he could see his hair sticking up in spikes like thorns and a long cape draped around him.

“Its you again.” Dick said softly. The boy didn't move. “You're the… the ‘Herald’? Is that your superhero name?”

The boy finally spoke, “Do I  _ look _ like a superhero to you?” It didn't sound like he expected an answer, but Dick wasn’t so sure.

“Why do you only come when I’m alone?”

“My business is with you alone, I have nothing to say to these other two simpletons.” Dick bristled at the way he referred to Jason and Tim, but the boy continued. “Why are you still here? I gave you a chance.”

“To what?”

“To hand yourself to the authorities.”

Dick, still from the safety behind the seat’s back, raised an eyebrow, though the other boy probably couldn’t see it in the darkness. “Why would I do such a thing?”

The boy made an exasperated clicking noise and got up from his perch, standing in perfect balance in the back of the seat, like he didn't even know he was doing it. Dick stared wide eyed as the other boy waved his cape aside to point at him. 

“This is my mission. I am not going to  _ fail _ my mission because of your foolishness. I’m warning you. You don’t want to make an enemy out of me.” He said, his voice hard, almost a growl.

But Dick had gotten distracted by the boys' clothes, as he finally caught a glimpse of it with his arm raised as it was. If he could describe it, he’d compare it to that of a fencing costume, stark white against the pitch blackness of his cape, of which the inside was equally white. The pants however were dark, and he had heavy looking boots and gauntlets, which amazed him all the more. All that weight on him and still he kept perfectly balanced.

“Mission…?” Mumbled Dick, confused, returning his focus to the boys masked face. “What mission? What are you talking about?”

The boy—or Herald, he guessed—retracted his arm and the brightness from within his cape disappeared. It had left Dick with spots in his eyes that he had to blink away. “That is none of your concern. Return, or I will drag you there myself.”

“Return? To where, the circus? I-I’m not going back. Not yet.”

“Do not be stupid, you are only delaying the inevitable.”

It all sounded like his suspicions were correct. This boy was trying to make him go to the circus against his will. But, still the question remained that, if he worked for Black Mask, why not take him directly to him?

“I’m not going back.” Dick said, with renewed resolve, standing up straight. This time he pointed at the Herald. “You can tell your boss that I’m going to get to him first. I’ll bring him down myself!” Well, with the help of Tim and Jason.

“Bring him down… What nonsense are you spewing?”

“Black Mask might have the police on a leash, but he can’t stop what’s coming to him!”

“Sionis…?” the Herald mumbled, though Dick didn’t really know what he meant. It sounded like a word in a foreign language.

“And, I’m calling your bluff,” he crossed his arms. “If you could take me against my will as you have said many, many times, you would already have. You can’t do it.”

The Herald clicked his tongue. “You’re stubborn. And you say you will not return until this… whatever it is, with Black Mask is done?” Dick glared up at him as a form of answer. “Very well. Do as you please. And when your body is in tatters and your legs can’t take you on their own then I shall find you again. After all, a missing person can be found in many states. Whatever comes to you would not be my fault, surely.”

“Wha—?”

The boy suddenly rushed at him and Dick shielded himself, closing his eyes tightly, but the impact never came. As he opened his eyes, he found himself alone once more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter got so long I had to divide it into three parts. I just hope nothing from 9 & 10 snuck up past my editing.
> 
> Anyways wow more mystery kid who we already know is definitely Damian! What’s HIS deal?


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Needed to stop looking at this chapter so here it is.

“Were going to what?!” Tim exclaimed shocked, before another of their training sessions. They had been doing Dicks training regiment for the past week until today, when Jason stood tall in front of them, bandaged arms on his hips and a cocky grin in place. Tims outburst simply made him look more pleased.

“You want to go out, fight some dudes, well, thats what im gonna teach you.” Jason said with a cocky grin. “You can watch for now. We can go just you and me first,” he told Dick.

Dick stepped up hesitantly. He had never been in a proper fight before, so he didn't know what to expect. He kept his eyes on Jason's face and didn’t realize when they started circling each other. Jason was brimming with confidence at that moment, and, to the risk of sounding vain, Dick felt like he was looking at himself right before a big stunt. It was exhilarating.

 “You say you know how to fight, so i'm not gonna go easy on you.” Dick said, himself grinning with anticipation.

“Put up your dukes, circus boy,” Jason said, raising his fists, “lets see you throw a punch.”

Jason probably expected Dick to hesitate, but he didn't. Dick moved quickly, rushing up towards Jason with a tight fist. Then, he tripped and fell on his face. “Wha—!”

“Terrible! Just terrible!” Jason said from behind him. Jason immediately sat on his back to keep him from getting up, ignoring his cries of complaint. “You,” he said, probably addressing Tim, “tell me what he did wrong.”

“What? Me? Uhh… well, I've seen a few movies, and, he moved like a disposable bad guy.”

“What does that even mean…” Dick mumbled.

“I mean, you projected your punch way too much so it was obvious where it was gonna land, and you left yourself wide open. No wonder he tripped you. Eep!” Tim squeaked as Dick glared in his direction. “Not that I would have done better, mind!”

“Nerdy answer, but correct!” Jason said getting up, holding out his hand towards Dick. He took it, unhappy with how quickly their match had ended. Jason raised his fist. “But there's more to it than just me being able to see you coming, your form is terrible. First off the way you make a fist is all wrong, you're gonna end up with broken fingers this way. You have to do it like this… You! Come here look too! I'm not explaining this twice!” He clamored, making Tim get up and join them. Jason made a fist again. “See, you want to use the knuckles of your index and middle fingers…”

After that he lined them up next to each other and stood facing them. “Your next issue is balance. You like to flip around so you're probably used to being light on your feet, but to throw punches you have to keep a proper stance so you don't topple over. You can be your own worst enemy at that time.”

“So my thing and your thing are basically… opposites?”

Jason shrugged. “How should I know? This is just the basics, you have to know when to move and when to stay still. It's all intuition, and you've got that in spades.” Dick smiled embarrassed at that. “You need to get your opponent off balance. Follow your gut and you can't go wrong.”

“You guys are incredible,” said Tim, his eyes shining with unmistakable admiration.

“Say that after you learn what I prepared for you. Were gonna be fighting on the streets, so  I expect them to fight dirty,” he walked off the stage and then came back, lugging with him a red lump. “So, were going to train dirty.” He raised up the mysterious object for them to see. It was clearly the ripped off cushion of a theater seat.

Regardless of this obvious fact, Tim felt the need to ask. “Uh… what's that?”

“This is the better alternative.” 

“Don't like the sound of that,” Dick said to Tim, who nodded.

“Hey, hey! This is your fault alright?” Jason said, which made Dicks heart twinge with guilt. “You're tossing us all over the place with your acrobat stuff, were getting bruised to shit. There's no way I'm gonna get you two to properly spar like I planned. So we're gonna use this.” He punctuated his statement by punching the cushion, releasing a load of ancient dust.

“Oh. So… we’re just punching a pillow?”

“Don't worry, smartass. Its still gonna hurt like shit. You'll see.” He placed it on the ground for the time being. “Look how I do it. One foot forward, then, straight.” He said, slowly jabbing forward. Tim nodded, studying his form. “This is left, this is right. Hey you!” he shouted, startling Dick. He hadn't even realized he had zoned out. “Are you listening? Come on!”

“What? Yes!” Dick answered, scrambling forward to face a cushion wielding Jason. 

“Tim do some sit ups to keep warmed up, it'll be your turn next so watch carefully.”

“Okay.”

In a lower tone he suddenly addressed Dick. “You know I didn't mean it like that, stop making mountains out of molehills.” Then louder he said, “Now follow my voice! Left!”

Dick barely had time to recuperate from what Jason had said and was slow to react, jabbing sloppily with his left.

“Harder! Right!”

Dick punched harder this time, with a smile on his face as he followed Jason's voice.

* * *

 

“I give! I give up! No more, please…” called Tim, holding his arms up and crossing his hands in a “T” shape. He was gasping and out of breath. Dick sympathized with him, doing stretches on the sidelines. He was used to stretches, but his body ached more than usual. 

Jason lowered the battered cushion slightly and looked at Tim for a moment. Jason, himself was damp with sweat, his own part of the training seemingly not an easy task. He nodded and threw the cushion aside. 

“I just decided I’m a pacifist.” Tim said, bracing himself on his knees, “I decided it just now, unrelated to all this.”

“Congrats…” Dick sighed, relaxing his body.

“Thanks,” Tim gasped, “It was a very, ungh, painful decision to come to.” He groaned as he attempted to stand upright.

“If you two losers are done whining…” Jason started, approaching them with a familiar box, “time for the second part of my lessons. Learning how to take care of yourselves.” He pushed the box against Dicks chest and he fumbled to hold it.

They took care of each others bruised knuckles with the help of Jason's directions. They hadn't noticed the bleeding until then and it had begun to sting. Jason had seemed to be good tending to himself, which was probably something Jason had to learn on his own, now that he thought about it.

“How do you know so much about this, Jay?” Dick couldn't help but ask.

“Jay?” He asked, momentarily distracted from his rubbing alcohol.

“Jay, Jason. It's a nickname.” It had just come out naturally, but he wondered if it bothered Jason; though he simply seemed to accept it silently.

“My dad, he used to be a boxer for a while. Back when he was clean.” He said, returning his attention to his tools, putting everything back in place. “Though, really the boxing wasn't on the straight and narrow either.”

“I see…”

“If you're done with that,” he held out his hand.

“Oh! Yes, were done.” He passed over the used cotton swabs to Jason. He probably didn't want to talk about himself much anymore, he could understand the sentiment. 

“It's getting late,” Tim said, stretching and wincing in pain at his sore muscles, “lets get some grub. On me, of course.”

“Ohh! What will it be today?” Jason said, immediately cheering up at the prospect of food. Tim had been bringing some of his lunches and homemade dinners with him for after the training sessions, so they all looked forward to it.

“It was taco tuesday at school today, so,” he grinned, “ta-da! Mucho caliente!”

“That is not how you say that but I give you points for effort.” Jason said, already digging in.

“Yeah well, spanish isn't my best subject.”

They talked some more as they ate and gradually the pain of the training started to fade. In these moments Dick felt a little guilty, because he momentarily forgot what this all was for, as he basked in the warmth of the presence of his friends.

* * *

 

Jason climbed up the fire escape and jimmied up the window to his apartment. He hoisted up the large bag of junk after him and dropped it in a corner. He had a rather large collection of, say, goods acquired for redistribution; though he still needed to go through them to separate what was valuable and what would sell for a penny at a hardware store.

He peeked his head out of the doorless room into the living room where he saw his mom ironing a large amount of clothes. She was listening to a rickety old radio, though through the noise he could barely make out the soft folk music.

He let go of the breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding and stepped out to greet her. “Still trying to channel the spirit of the entire state of West Virginia through the radio?”

“I get a tarot reading one time and you never let it go,” she said without looking up. 

He went over and took the load of freshly pressed clothes to put them in their respective bags. “Want me to deliver these?” he asked.

“I got it, kiddo. Just leave them in the couch.” She handed him another load and planted a kiss on his forehead which he quickly scrubbed whilst grumbling under his breath.

“You just got in?”

“Ah, yeah.”

“You been going out a lot lately these past few weeks,” she said, wrapping a shirt on a hanger. “Are you goin’ to Ma Gunn’s?”

He looked up at her and noticed she was looking back at him with a raised brow. Ma Gunn had approached them once at the grocery store, offering to take care of him while his mom was busy working, though he hadn’t really thought much of it since.

“ At this time of day? Nah.”

“Good, I don’t like this Gunn woman, she gives me a bad feeling,” she said pointedly-- though she always said the same about most everyone--then resumed her ironing. “Where are you going then?”

“Just hanging out with some… friends.”

“Nothing too dangerous?”

“Eh,” he shrugged. “It’s Gotham.”

“Damn right it is.” She heaved a tired sigh. “That's why I worry!” The bags under her eyes and the shallow of her cheeks made her look older than she really was, but in these moments where they could hold an actual conversation he thought she was beautiful.

She caught him staring and smiled. “What? Something on my face?”

“No, nothing.” He smiled back, then turned to his task at hand.

“Oh! Speaking of face, guess who’s mug I’m gonna go see later today?”

“Bruce Wayne?” He joked.

“That crook? Never. No, your father.”

Jason’s blood went cold. “Oh, really?” He said, managing to keep his tone even.

“It’s been a while, but he called saying he wants to see me. Lord, I have not seen that man since he got framed. He told me he would call, to see me. So he did, your father.”

He couldn’t look at her now, she was probably sporting a dopey smile just thinking about  _ that man _ . It was always like that, no wonder her mood had been so good. She was going to see him, and then he was going to use her and she was going to crash back down, hard. Always the same.

“He asked about you too—“

“I have to go,” he said.

“So suddenly?” She looked at him wide eyed.

“I, yeah. I’ll be back late.”

“Alright?” She said, sounding confused but not really trying to stop him.“Be careful out there, Jaybird. You know I worry.”

“Right.” He walked towards the door, trying not to look so rushed even though he wanted nothing more than to leave as fast as he could. “Bye then.”

He didn’t stay long enough to hear her response as he left and immediately broke into a run, slamming against one of his neighbors on the way down the stairs. 

Once out of the building he felt more calm. He swallowed his labored breaths as he looked up to the window of his and his mom's apartment. He wasn’t going to stay here for it. 

He wondered vaguely if they could try using weapons instead of their fists to fight criminals. He had some scavenging to do and later, maybe convince the other two about it being a better option. Boxing be damned.

* * *

 

Jason emptied the contents of the large sack hed been carrying on the floor, they clattered loudly and the sound reverberated throughout the theater. Tim and Dick were looking at him dumbfounded.

“What's all this?” said Dick picking up one of the objects from the floor. It was definitely a brick.

“I told you guys we needed every advantage we could get, and we've been doing good doing boxing training but, face it. We’re still kids. We need all the edge we can get.”

“This is… certainly a lot of edge,” said Tim, holding a strange looking knife. “And, I agree it would be helpful, but im not sure I want to get hit with a metal pipe to see if it’s effective. I can just tell you that right now. It would hurt. Like, a lot.”

Jason crouched in front of the haul hed brought, prompting the other two to do the same. “Don’t be stupid, were not gonna practice with these on eachother. There’s mannequins backstage we can just use those for now.”

“You really thought of everything.”

“I just figured boxing wouldn't get any of us very far, so. Just pick whatever feels right for you, we can try several things until you get comfortable.”

They did try several things, canes, chains, all sorts of knives, Jason had even brought a medieval mace he’d found somewhere, though it turned out to be made of papier-mâché. In the end Dick chose a bat with a few nails embedded throught and Tim kept an umbrella Jason now regretted mixing in, as he wouldn't stop talking about all its possible applications. Jason himself decided to keep a pair of brass knuckles and a crowbar on himself.

“It's good that we all have stuff that improves our range, but I have a crazy idea,” said Tim with a mischievous glint in his eyes.

“Don't you ever run out of crazy ideas?” Jason said, helping Dick wrap his bat with masking tape in the absence of actual grip tape. Masking tape could be used for anything.

“Hopefully not. I was just wondering if i could borrow some of these things, he pointed at the discarded pile of weapons. “I might be able to give them some use.”

Jason thought about it for a moment. “Yeah sure.”

“Sweet!” Tim went and started gathering some of the oddest objects in the bunch—including a bottle of mace, a few (villain issued) boomerangs and most of the knives—into his backpack.

Dick took this opportunity to sidle up close enough to whisper. “What really brought this up?”

Jason side eyed him before going back to his work. “Whatever do you mean? We need all the advantages—“

“All the advantages we can get, I know, I know. It's just, you seemed upset when you brought it up.”

“Was I? I think you're seeing things,” said Jason as nonchalantly as he could manage. He didn't like people prying into his personal business; and though he felt like he could trust Dick, hell maybe even Tim, he wouldn't be able to handle being looked at with pity. They'd try to fix it, fix  _ him _ . He didn't need fixing. He was fine. He was surviving. “I just think this is gonna give us a much needed edge, we can only punch so hard.”

“I just… I know there's stuff going on with you. And I don't even know where to begin to even describe…”

“Why? Too much for you already, flyboy?” Jason scoffed. Dick could almost see his walls rising higher.

“How is it not too much for  _ you _ ?” He pushed. “Whatever you're going through, you don't have to shoulder what's going on with me, too.”

“Yeah, were not having this conversation again. Hey, Tim! Easy!” He called as he watched Tim juggle a load of things into his backpack. “If you need any more things I can show you where I got these,” he went over to help Tim, finishing the conversation before Dick could protest.

Jason knew Dick was looking at him with his searching eyes, but Jason didn't let him see past what he wanted him to see and so, he eventually joined them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next up. What can Tim possibly teach these two? Getting a high score on Mario Teaches Typing.


	10. Chapter 10

2-2-1-2 was his locker passcode, it was pretty easy—not only because of the low, similar numbers, but also because it stood for 221B Baker Street, from one of his favorite book series. But he didn’t mind that very much, after all, at least a third of the lockers had faulty locks. Having a working one wasn’t even privilege, it was just luck.

He put his books in and checked his schedule while exchanging pleasantries with every few other students who went out of their way to greet him.

“Is it hard to walk on a slippery floor with how much your boots get licked?” asked someone approaching him from behind. 

Tim rolled his eyes and gave a mocking smile at his friend as he leaned onto the lockers next to him. “You know, Ives, when they said words make sentences, it was implied that the sentence has to make sense.”

“Does it ever get hard to be popular, Tim? I personally think it’s a hassle, y'know? Fake people all around you constantly… yuck!”

Tim offered a dry laugh and closed his locker. “I’m not popular Ives, I’m just normal.” He had no comment about the fake thing though, but that was a two way street, much as he felt guilty about it. He started walking to his next class, which he happened to share with Ives, his best friend since entering this school. 

Ives fell into step next to him. “Right, of course not,” he scoffed. It didnt help his point that a few upperclassmen passed them by in the corridor and greeted Tim. He waved at them but he could feel Ives’ raised eyebrow like it was pressed against his very own skin.

Ives was often in this defensive mood, but Tim admired the way he spoke his mind, even if he came to regret it later. Still it was enviable, Tim could only dream of doing such a thing. “Are you jealous? You know you‘re still my favorite groupie.”

“Dude, ew!” Ives pushed him, though Tim didn’t budge much, thanks to all his recent late night training. Not that Ives has the strength or the malice to actually knock Tim to the ground. “You had to pay me for that, Drake, and you can’t afford this.” He gestured at all of himself.

“I always knew you were after my money.” Tim joked with a chuckle.

“I wouldn’t.” Ives said, his voice taking on a more serious tone, though he was looking anywhere but at Tim.

Even though he always joked about it, he was constantly afraid of people trying to use him because of his name, of everyone pretending to like him because of his parents' money. It wasn't a worry that was born from himself but a worry nonetheless. But Ives was different, he didn’t hide his feelings and he actually argued and disagreed with Tim sometimes. He could be himself around him. 

That comfort had led him (perhaps foolishly) one night to confide in him about how he felt, about people at school, about his parents, even a little bit about himself, and Ives had listened and told him that that would never be him. He still believed it.

He wished he could tell Ives about the crazy couple of weeks he’d been having, it was weighing on him, the reality of it. But he couldn’t, it wasn’t only  _ his  _ secret.

“I know that, Ives,” he told him sincerely. Ives scratched his nose to hide the embarrassment.

“God, you guys are disgustingly chummy so early in the morning, if I wasn’t already nauseous over the math test today I’d be nauseous now,” someone said, loud enough to catch their attention.

“Maybe your grades wouldn’t suck if you stuck your nose in a book instead of where it doesn’t belong, Hudson.” Ives replied without missing a beat.

“Bite me, Ives.”

Ives was Tims best friend, and with Ives had come Hudson and Kevin, who were Ives’ childhood friends. Hudson was standing next to Kevin who was bent over the water fountain trying to make it work.

Hudson greeted them with low-fives—which he’d started to do recently and wouldn’t stop, even if they asked. “Yo! Timster, my man! Are we all down for tonight’s campaign?”

Tim laughed, slightly embarrassed, “Sorry guys,” he began.

“No way! You're flaking on us  _ again _ ?” asked Hudson, genuinely shocked.

Kevin adjusted his glasses up his nose and sighed. “This is the 4th consecutive time, Tim. That’s two weeks! I can only pad out our Wizards and Warriors game so much you know?”

“Yeah dude, we’re getting sick of side quests. We want to tackle the Blackwood Castle but we can’t do it without our rogue,” said Ives, pinning him down with a glare full of suspicion. “What’s going on with you?” 

“Nothing's going on, I mean, there is, but it’s not a big deal. I’ll sort it out and then I’ll play. There’s just a lot on my plate right now…”

“I bet,” said Kevin, “Callie told me you quit on the broadcasting club.”

“It really isn’t as good without you in it for reals,” added Hudson.

Ives turned to him, his eyebrows almost merging with his hairline. “You quit broadcasting club too? Tim, really, what’s going on?”

Tim had not expected this kind of intervention so suddenly, and really he couldn’t just go out and tell them the truth. But he couldn’t really think up an excuse they would believe in such short notice. 

He glanced both ways, trying to look for an excuse to leave when he caught the eye of the school counselor, Earlene, who was heading straight towards them.

“Uh,” he managed.

“Mr. Drake,” she said as she reached them, “if I may I have a word.”

They all stood around awkwardly looking at each other and at her, not knowing what to do next.

“Don’t you all have class to go to?” She asked sternly.

They all made their excuses and scrambled away from her, leaving Tim on his own. The corridor was oddly deserted all of a sudden.

He hoisted up his book and tried to excuse himself. “Actually, I have a math quiz to get to as well, so…”

“No, stay a minute, I can deliver you to your classroom later so you don’t get in trouble.”

“O-Okay.”

“I’ve heard some troubling things lately, Drake.”

“You can call me Tim.” he said, deflecting. He didn't know what this was about but it couldn’t be anything good. He looked at her expecting her to continue but she seemed to be looking him over, making him kind of subconscious. He squirmed a bit in place. “Is it, bad? Are you calling my parents?”

That seemed to catch her attention. She adjusted her glasses and folded her hands neatly in front of her. “Walk with me.”

“Uhhh… okay?”

They started slowly making their way through the corridor in what Tim felt was the general direction of his classroom.

“Now, I want you to be completely honest with me, and know were in confidence here,” she said, her voice soft enough for his ears only while still keeping the stern tone, it kind of reminded him of his mom. He shivered. There was an image he didn’t need. “Some of your teachers tell me you've been dropping your extracurriculars, is that true?”

“Ah, well… it, it was starting to become too much so,” he tried. “And, really, how useful can Badminton really be in the real world, right?”

“Right, on that we can both agree.” she said, her eyes narrowing as if recalling a bad memory involving the Badminton coach. “However, you know you can come to me to deal with any scheduling problems, correct?”

“Right…”

“Not only that but they also tell me you've started to sleep during class, even though you've dropped all these extra activities. Care to comment?” 

He was silent, his heart hammering at 80 miles an hour. Was he in trouble after all? She sounded like she knew what was up. God, he hoped not.

She sighed at his silence. “The most troubling thing however, is the bruises.” Tim stopped walking and she turned to look at him. “Some students tell me they've seen bruises on you when you change for P.E.” 

“Kevin.” He bit out quietly. “You snitch.” He really was too much of a gossip, but he was probably just worried. 

She reached out a hand and gently placed it in his shoulder where he could still feel the sting of Jason tackling him to the ground. He winced involuntarily. “These are very serious things, Drake.”

“I-I… I just... ran into a door? I’m very… very clumsy.”

She pursed her lips into a thin line and moved her hand to his shoulder. “I am here to help as much as I can, but I can't help you if you don't tell me what is going on. Is anyone bullying you?”

“What?” He laughed nervously. “No way. I'm friends with everyone here. God, that makes me sound like an ass. I mean, almost everyone. I mean, I get along well.” He bit his cheek to try stop himself from talking any more.

“Are your parents home? I would like—”

“Please don't.” He blurted out and her eyes sharpened.

“Why not?”

“It’s… not a big deal. They’re very busy people. I wouldn't want to bother them with something like this, really.”

She hummed thoughtfully, he could see gears moving in her head but he didn't know what they meant, “Tim, does your father...” she began.

He hugged himself and interrupted her before she could say anything else, his voice holding a bit of a tremor. “Thank you. For your concern, Ms. Hollingsworth... I-I really am fine. I ran into a door, honest.”

She looked at him with sharp eyes. “We shall speak about this again at a later date. For now, off to class.”

He thanked her and quickly scurried off. He was in deep shit, but he had more important things to worry about than a misunderstanding. He hoped.

* * *

 

They were following after Tim silently as he led them through the streets of Gotham seemingly aimlessly. As they walked, the suburban homes gave way to high rise buildings and eventually old crumbling brownstones, the street lamps turned on one after the other, like will-o-wisp. The sun had long disappeared behind the skyline and the heavy clouds threatened rain. Though their guide didn’t seem worried about it, so neither were they.

They couldn’t help but be curious about the sudden outing. Tim had barely spared a word about it, simply stating he was finally ready to have his “turn” at last.

Tim had confessed to him and Jason early on that he had no idea what he could offer in ways of lessons for them. “I’ve tried and tried to come up with something,” he’d said, “you guys just, taught all these cool things and my ideas just couldn't measure up to it. You mentioned I was good at sneaking and,” he gave a self deprecating chuckle, “I kept thinking about hide and seek?”

They hadn't missed Jason's guffaw at this, even though he did his best to cover it up with a cough.

“Tim… you didn’t have to try so hard to come up with something. We have strength in numbers, just you being here is good enough. Besides I’m sure anything you have to share will be useful... Even hide and seek!” Dick had told him, and Tim had nodded in acknowledgement before they resumed their training, but it was obvious that the issue had continued to bother him.

That is until the night before when Tim had informed them he had everything prepared for his turn but that they wouldn't be able to do it at the old theater, so they'd have to go on a little trip.

Which is what they were doing at the moment.

Tim hadn’t explained what his lesson entailed or where they were going or what was in his backpack, which he had slung over one shoulder even though it looked heavy. Beyond a few mutterings under his breath he had yet to elaborate on the nights plan.

Dick turned to look at Jason, who was drilling holes on the back of Tims head, clearly reaching the end of his fraying patience. He had started the night in high spirits, ribbing Tim to get him to spill the beans. But as time had passed and Tim remained a sealed tomb and their surroundings turned darker and possibly more dangerous his mood started to sour.

He could see him fighting the urge to either turn back or throttle Tim until he gave answers and Tim was walking purposefully without noticing, so he decided to intervene.

“Uh, so. We've been walking for a while now. We there yet?”

“No, not yet,” Tim replied, for what seemed to be the hundredth time. He looked down at a notebook in his hands before directing them to cross the road.

“Care to tell us where we’re going?” Jason asked.

“Uh…” was the non answer.

“Do you KNOW where we're going?” 

“Well, it's not really a matter of where. It's more complicated than that.” Tim said, scratching the nape of his neck as he looked around. “Left here.”

Dick and Jason exchanged a look.

“Tim,” Dick began, “what?”

Tim looked over his shoulder, biting on the cap of his pen. “Listen, I swear it'll make sense when we get there. It’ll be worth it.”

“You suck shit at surprises.” Jason grumbled.

Tim half turned to face Jason, giving him a strange look. “But I’m really good at keeping secrets.” Dick noticed the confusion in Jason’s face at the comment, but he was just as confused by the whole thing, so he didn’t think much of it. “Anyways, lets keep going, we need to find it before it’s too late or we’ll never catch up.”

Dick wondered if maybe they were going to get on a bus or the subway. He consciously started taking in their surroundings with more detail, looking for bus stops or stairs leading to the underground. But they kept walking past them time and again.

He was lost in his own thoughts when he almost ran into Tim who had stopped suddenly in front of him. Jason hadn’t realized they were stopping, however, and collided with Dicks back. He glared at Jason, who complained, “Hey, don't look at me. Look at him!”

“We’re here,” Tim announced, slipping his notebook into the inside of his jacket.

“Where’s here?”

Tim turned to them and beamed, though there was an edge to his smile. “Here’s where it gets tricky.” He gestured behind him, towards a wide alley between a restaurant and a seemingly abandoned brownstone. 

They looked into it, trying to figure out what was it that Tim had been referring to. It was a normal looking alley, dark and weird smelling. The only thing of note was--

“Yo, sick ride!” Jason said, running forwards into the alley. Dick was going to call him back before catching Tims eye as he followed Jason inside.

Jason called excitedly from where he was hovering over the car. “Just look at this paint job, I can see my reflection in it!” It was a deep black shade, almost losing itself in the shadows of the alley. “This has to be a custom job, I mean, these blowers are insane. Damn, look at the  _ rims _ . That shit can’t be cheap.” 

Dick tried to fight his smile. He hadn’t seen Jason this genuinely excited since the first time he taught them how to flip. But he had a point, the car looked really expensive, which just made it even weirder for it to be parked in such a dirty alley, in such a low income neighborhood.

“Don't touch it, you're going to set it off.” Tim warned, looking all around them, not really paying attention to the car.

Jason rolled his eyes. “This isn't my first rodeo, Sherlock.” He returned to his hovering, admiring everything, from the exhaust to the floodlights. “So why’re we here?” He suddenly perked up. “Don't tell me we stealing it? Damn, didn't know you had it in you Timber.”

Dick turned to look at Tim alarmed.

“What? No! No, were not  _ stealing _ the car. Thatd be suicide!”

“What, are you too chicken? Bet you I can crack this open if you give me a few minutes.” Jason said leaning forward to look into the darkened windows, cupping his hands to either side of his face.

Tim yanked him backwards by the shoulder. “Stop! I told you to be careful! Do you have any idea whose car this is?”

Jason shrugged. “Drug lord?”

Dick felt like all the air in his lungs suddenly left him. “Tim?” He gasped. He must have seen the look of horror in his eyes as he hurried to clarify.

“No! No way! That'd… that'd be crazy. Why would I know that?”

Jason seemed unimpressed. “You look like you spend your evenings at the DMV looking for suspicious plates for fun, I don't know.”

“That was  _ one _ time and they don’t even let you do that.” Tim muttered. “No this is, uh,” he laughed nervously. “Its Batmans car.”

Dick and Jason looked at him for a beat before breaking the silence simultaneously with “bullshit” and “Batman?”

“That’s not Batmans car. It’s just a car.”

“Its--”

“He rides a car?”

“Sure--”

“I mean sure its a dope car, but it's just that. A car.”

“It doesn't look very Batman-y.”

“Listen--”

Jason snapped his fingers agreeing with Dick. “Right?”

“Will you guys just--” Tim said loudly, then looked around and turned to a hiss, “--listen to me!” Dick swallowed whatever his next words were about to be and looked at Tim wide eyed. A glance at Jason confirmed he’d been surprised by the outburst but now looked amused by it.

Tim composed himself for a moment, brushing his hair uselessly behind his ear before it rebelliously returned to his face. “Sorry about that. I just, I'm nervous about this, I've… never done this with anyone before and I don't know how its going to go, okay? So we gotta take it slow.”

They slowly nodded.

“How do you know that's Batmans car?” Dick ventured.

“And why are we here?” Jason added, but Tim raised his hands to stop them from making more questions.

“I was, I was getting to that.” He took a deep breath, then reached into his coat, pulling out the notebook from before. He looked around and walked towards a trash bin close to them. He motioned for them to get closer and so they did. Tim clicked a pen he got from his pocket and a little light turned on. He pointed it at the notebook. “You can look, we have time.”

Jason didn't miss a beat and reached for it, opening it on a random page. Dick leaned in to get a better view, though it wasn't much help. The pages were full of scribbles and drawings that made no sense to him.

“Its a map.” Jason noted.

Dick blinked up at him, then back down at the pages. It didn't look like any map he'd ever seen before. It looked more like a labyrinth puzzle that someone decided to erase after it was solved, leaving only the road. Maybe it resembled a pirate map in the way the pages were creased. He turned his head to attempt to read what was scribbled on the margins.

Jason twisted the notebook and pointed at a section of the line. “This is Robinson Park,” he said, and slid his finger to the notes at the margin. It said ‘C4 Robinson Park’. Jason turned to look at Tim, who smiled and nodded, confirming it.

“Oh, I see,” Dick said, “its a map of Gotham.”

Jason shook head. “No, it doesn't make sense. There's buildings in this area, but the line cuts right through them.”

They looked at Tim, but he kept quiet. A tiny, nervous smile played on his lips.

“Couldnt it maybe be that uh, maybe they weren’t there when he made the map? Or maybe he forgot.” Dick tried, though he didn't understand what they were trying to accomplish. He flipped the page to see what else was on the notebook, but it was more of the same, though in different patterns and different shapes.

“Hey, i’m really good with maps! I wouldn’t just forget a bunch of houses.”

“Yeah, you’re just really bad at drawing,” Dick laughed, “what is this?” He flipped a page back and forth, making a little stick figure drawn on the corners look like it was swinging back and forth.

“I think that’s supposed to be Batman.” Jason offered with a snicker.

“Thats… I was bored.” Tim blushed. “A-Anyways, the maps are fine. Jason can prove it, how did you know that was Robinson Park?”

Jason rolled his eyes. “The way the pages are creased. They were clearly folded in vertical lines, that coupled with the lines of the paper make quadrants. You put the column and row before the name.”

Tim beamed. “Thats right!”

Dick was struggling to follow. “So, why?”

“Oh, that’s less important. I just don’t want anyone to know what this is supposed to be. So it’s in code, in case anyone whos not me sees it.”

“And so what’s so important it deserves a code a teenager can crack?”

Tim huffed, glaring at Jason. “Well, anyone who doesn’t know what they’re looking for won’t be able to get it. I don’t need to complicate myself unnecessarily. And, well, you have a good eye, so you don't count.” Jason frowned at the compliment. “You do, really,” he flipped the pages back to the first one, where Dick hilariously found Batman holding a gun on the corner. He snorted and quickly covered his mouth, but Tim caught him and covered the drawing with his hand. “Here,” he turned to Jason, “you mentioned this part doesn’t make sense, but thats because youre thinking of roads. If you didn’t have to worry about buildings, going through here wouldn’t be a problem.” 

“What, so you go through them?”

“Or,” said Dick, eyes widening. He couldn’t help the excitement of maybe being able to solve Tims little puzzle. “Or,” he repeated, “what if you went over them? You don't have to worry about buildings if you go over or under.” Jason looked at him incredulously, then suddenly seemed to get it, looking back to the page with renewed intensity.

As if on cue Tim lifted his hand from the page, the little silly doodle looking back at them.

“Batman,” they all said simultaneously.

They looked back at the car parked behind them, its presence turning overwhelming.

“So, what are all these? Don't tell me they're--”

“These are all my recorded variations of his patrol routes. The ones ive been able to confirm, anyways.”

Dick looked at all the crooked pages, far outnumbering the straight ones. “There's... so many. You followed him through all these?”

“Oh, no. No, Id never be able to keep up. I mentioned he runs over roofs, I can't do that.”

“Couldn't  _ before _ ,” Dick corrected. 

Tim laughed, “Well, we’ll see about that. No, I usually stay in a single point and see where he goes from there. These maps just help me do three things, predict where he’s bound to be, and be able to have a proper vantage point to set my camera. Sometimes his routes overlap and im able to draw the entire lap.” He showed them a page where the line did not have a visible start or end. “He doesn't always follow a pattern so it's kind of a crapshoot really.”

“This is… This is incredible, Tim” Dick said, honestly. It seemed like a lot of work. And not being sure if he'd even show up, sitting on his own late at night waiting for the chance of a blur to pass by. He couldn't imagine… how boring it would probably get.

That explained the little Batman doodles at least.

“Wait, you said three things. You only mentioned two, what's the other?”

“Well,” he began, then looked at his watch, “oh, it's late. I'll explain later. For now, let's get a move on.”

Jason was taken aback. “Wait, were leaving already? I haven't looked at the car properly yet!”

“This isn't even one of his best ones! Come on!” Tim called and climbed on top of a large garbage container. He pulled something out of his backpack and hooked it on a fire escape ladder above him.

“Is that the umbrella?”

“I needed a new one, my last one broke!” He jumped and let gravity bring him down, the ladder coming down with him and settling in place. “Come on! Hurry!”

They hurried after him up two floors, until he stopped them. He reached into his backpack again and brought out a piece of wire.

“No way.” Jason barked a laugh.

Tim approached a window and looked inside, he slipped the wire in a gap on the window, unclasped the safety and slid the window open. Jason slipped inside without a word.

“Isn't this illegal?”

Tim didn’t even look back at him when he said: “Gotta break a few eggs.” He slung one leg over the window and finally looked at Dick, who hadn’t moved. He held out his hand towards him. “Were in and out, honest.”

Dick sighed and took Tims hand, following him inside.

Tim led them out of the empty apartment and into the hallway. They went up a flight of stairs and on the way he explained. “The third thing was an extra perk I hadn’t even considered. But looking back it was obvious.” He was slightly out of breath but Dick could hear the excitement in his voice. “When I was able to trace his patterns I realized I could also figure out where they started. So, logically,” he paused at a door atop the stairs. He wiggled the knob and the door opened. “Aw, I wanted to show off my lockpick skills” he muttered, and led them outside.

The wind was cutting at this height. Looking out at the city skyline it was obvious it was later than they had realized. It was an incredible view, even in this relatively short building. Dick was so taken by the view he startled when Jason slapped his side to get his attention. 

He followed him to where Tim was waiting at the edge of the building. He was leaning slightly towards the edge, pulling things out of his backpack. When he noticed them get closer he continued. “As I was saying, knowing where his pattern started also helped me learn where he roughly parks his car. This helps me a lot because it also works backwards.” He finished assembling his tripod and was now peering through the lens of his camera, playing with the dials. “Knowing where the car is also lets me guess which pattern he's following. Since he's parked in this area I know at least three routes he might have taken, so I can meet him halfway. Though, in nights when I’m too tired I simply wait for him to get back.” 

“Woah! So he's gonna be here?” Dick leaned over his shoulder and could see the car back in the alley far below them. “It's a bit far, we'll only be able to see the back of his head.”

He took his tripod and folded it, “of course, thats why Im not taking a picture from here. We don't know from which side hell come so its best if we hide...” 

They settled in the shadowed area of the roof entrance and waited patiently as Tim made his last adjustments to his camera.

“I'm not above admitting this is kinda cool.” Jason nudged Tim with his fist playfully. “To think a snob like you can get up to stuff like this.”

Tim smirked. “I contain multitudes.”

“Jay’s right, Tim. This is very cool.”

“I said ‘kinda.’”

“And, yknow, what I mentioned before. Maybe now you can keep up with him.”

“Yes, actually… That's part of my proposal, for my thing. I want to join what you taught us to try to follow him. We’ll know where he goes so we can keep some distance. Like a test run. We can try to do that every few nights.”

“That'd be awesome.”

“Hey!” Jason whispered, and signaled out.

Out in the distance there was a black blur, distinguishable only whenever it passed a lit window or the clouded sky. Dick was vaguely aware of the click and whirr of Tims camera going off, but he was too transfixed by the figure cutting through the air and gracefully diving into the alleyway. They all scrambled up and peered over the edge of the building, only to catch the car silently pelting out of the alley and into the street.

“He really was here.”

“That… that was.”

“Yeah. It never gets old.”

It had come and gone in almost no time but there was a strange sensation pulling at his chest from what he'd seen. He looked at Tim and his flushed face and sparkling eyes told him this sensation he was feeling was multiplied for him. All that hard work had paid off in a split second. 

And it had been worth it.

They bathed in the moment for a while longer before Tim suggested they go back down and find somewhere to eat.

All the while, Dick couldn’t stop replaying that moment in his mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait. This chapter took me FOREVER to edit. There's honest to god like 3 versions of this chapter, in one of which they REALLY did play hide and seek. This is better though i feel like.
> 
> Next chapter is uuhhhhhhh an intermission. A special chapter. It is NOT the hide and seek game.


	11. INTERMISSION

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An intermission just in name.  
> And word count.

Barbara stared at the clock on the far wall, mentally willing it to go faster. As if it sensed her despair, the minute hand stuttered for a second before actually moving. She groaned, slumping forward on the table.

She stared at the books piled in front of her, her eyes unfocusing. She’d taken to helping at her school’s library on her off hours, in an effort to find a reason to spend so much time there.

She hadn’t thought it’d be this boring though. She wasn’t one to sit around waiting for things to happen, but she had no control over it. It beat waiting around at the precinct or alone at home though.

She wished some criminal would suddenly burst out of the wall. Or a monster, there’s monsters in Metropolis, Gotham should have their own monster. Like a big reptile man or something. And then she could take him out. She’d outsmart it in a classic battle of brains versus brawn.

She immediately felt guilty over that thought. Not only was it childish and unrealistic, it was selfish as well. She knew that if something were to happen her dad would probably die from worry. That or the paperwork that would come after.

Her eyes flickered to the clock again, it had barely moved. With a sigh she turned her attention to the wall of books below the clock.

Shed witnessed Gothams very own Commissioner’s exhaustion first hand. Hed make an effort to interact with her from the couch as she did her homework on the tea table, neither of them really watching the CSI reruns that would fill the silence.

But she also knew the surge of energy he experienced during big cases as well. It was like he became 10 years younger, spry and ready for action. She was torn between wishing for him to have that or finally get some rest. Maybe they could go to that Star City Vacation trip they had sometimes talked about.

She was distracted from her thoughts by a small electronic chime sound coming from behind her. She swivelled her chair to face the big clunky computer. The librarian used it mostly to keep the books registered and had allowed Barbara to use it, if sparingly. Iwas one, if not the only, perk of the job.

The Gol. tab was blinking a furious yellow. Then it pinged a second time. She rolled her chair—stretching her legs to use the tips of her toes to reach the ground—and palmed the mouse. She clicked the GIM window and found she had two new messages.

 **xXDraconianXx** : hey!

 **xXDraconianXx** : any news about “the thing”

Barbara of course recognized the screen name immediately. Not long after she met the strange boys at the precinct—and given them her contact information— this user began to correspond with her. She knew it wasn't either of the boys though, as the user had referred to them as “a mutual friend”. 

She thought the spy-speak was a funny bit and she wasn't above playing along.

 **The_Oracle** : None. Sadly the “Asset” has been especially difficult this past week.

 **xXDraconianXx** : copy

Barbara bit her lip. Usually their “Official Business” conversation would end after that initial report. She had been doing her best to guesstimate what the police were doing regarding the case and relay her information to them in an attempt to feel more involved. But as the weeks went by it had gotten more difficult to gleam any new information, and she could only snoop so much without getting caught.

She wanted to ask if she could help in any other way. She felt useless. Finding these boys playing detective had been a stroke of inspiration. Helping on an investigation had never been a viable option to help her dad decompress, but with their help it was just that much more possible. 

That said she had no idea what they had been doing on their side, the information only flowed one way; and truth be told, she had started to get second thoughts about giving classified information to a bunch of strangers. 

 **The_Oracle** : So, hows... “things”?

She’d talked with Draconian at length before, about random stuff other than the case—he was a pretty likable guy and they had lots of common interests—but that wasn't what she was looking for at the moment. She hoped he’d understand the hint in the message, as tone of voice was hard to translate into written text.

 **xXDraconianXx** : can i ask a favor?

The message had come in at the same time hers went out. She blinked at the screen for a moment, but Draconian was already messaging back.

 **xXDraconianXx** : oh

 **xXDraconianXx** : well “things” have been

 **xXDraconianXx** : lets call it a steady and predictable escalation of events

 **xXDraconianXx** : that we all totally saw coming and are honestly not freaking out about

She frowned. She wanted to ask more about that favor, as it piqued her interest the most, but Draconian sounded troubled.

 **The_Oracle** : Anything you can talk about?

 **xXDraconianXx** : uhh 

 **xXDraconianXx** : more importantly the favor

 **xXDraconianXx** : are you free tomorrow?

* * *

 

Damian sat at his desk, shrouded by the darkness in his room, with the exception of a small candle, faintly illuminating his immediate surroundings.

He contemplated the stationery in front of him and picked up his quill, clicking his tongue as it almost dropped ink on top of the paper. He let his hand hover over the page and he considered his words carefully.

_Mother,_

_I hope this letter finds you well. That is a lie, as I know that it will not. Because if it did then I’m afraid you might be dead or getting sloppy. I have trouble deciding which would be worse._

Damian perked up as he heard muffled sounds coming from downstairs. Even though the place was vast, most of the rooms remained redundant. Perhaps that was a good thing. 

He strained his ear for a moment, and as he realized it was futile to try and guess what was happening below without some sort of x-Ray vision—cheating as it might be—he returned to his letter.

_I’m proud to confirm that both you and Grandfather were completely wrong. My Father needed an heir, and he might not have seen it at first but he has come around, as I was sure he would. He relies on me like a partner, an equal. He needs me here, and for that I’m afraid I shall decline on returning “with my tail between my legs” as you expected I would. I stand proud beside him and that will not change._

There were muffled voices coming from below now. He checked the small clock ticking in front of him. 2 AM. It was early even to his Father’s standard, but he must have already returned home.

_But Mother, don’t you realize? There is still an empty space next to Father, waiting for you to fill. My Father doesn’t appreciate the League and I’m sure one day he will return to put an end to it, and I shall stand with him._

_I have no love or loyalty for the League, not anymore, you know this. But you’re so much more than that, more than what Grandfather thought you to be, thought US to be. Let’s prove him wrong together._

There were footsteps coming from the stairs, they weren’t hidden, in fact they were bold, as if expected to be heard. But he ignored them as his hand tightened its grip on the quill.

_I shall run the risk of sounding childish, though I don’t think it is, but we, you and I, Mother, are stronger together. We both know this as a fact. Father may be strong, but he’s  missing what you have. What WE have. Putting it bluntly, I miss—_

The door of his room opened suddenly behind him, the rush of cold air snuffing his candle and his body cast a deep shadow onto his letter from the light of the hallway.

“Damian.”

“Father,” Damian sat back on his chair and swiveled it around, “has Alfred not taught you it’s polite to knock before barging in on someone’s room?”

That gave his Father a pause. Damian felt the corners of his lips lifting as he looked at the door and apologized shortly, but he covered it up with his hand, appearing almost bored by this intrusion.

“It’s a school night,” his Father said, as if this was news to Damian. He turned on the light and Damian did his best not to squint. “You should be in bed.

“I was writing a letter.”

His Father had approached him now, though he still kept some distance. He peered around Damian to look at his desk. “Having trouble starting?”

Damian swiftly covered the blank paper with his hand. “It is merely a draft.”

“Who are you sending it to?”

“No one that concerns you.”

“Is it the Kent boy?”

“I wouldn’t associate with that dolt in a million years. We don't get along, he clearly dislikes my presence as I do his, so stop trying to make me put up with him... please,” he added as an afterthought. “Why are you here, Father? Have you finally reconsidered my proposal?”

His Father sat gingerly on Damian’s bed, looking over at him with his face lowered. “Damian, we talked about this already.”

“I am aware of that. Which is why I ask if you’ve reconsidered.”

“You’re not ready—“

Damian got to his feet and interrupted him before he could start on the same speech he always made. “Ready?” He stared wide eyed. “Father I was _born_ ready. I have _been_ ready since I was a child.”

“You _are_ a child, Damian,” he sighed heavily, clearly as tired of this argument as Damian felt. “You can still be one, I had no choice. I don’t want to be the one to take that away from you, Talia almost—“

“My _Mother_ had my best interests in mind, and I’m starting to doubt that you do.”

“That’s not fair.”

“What isn’t fair is to imprison me into this fallacy that you pretend is your real life! I am _not_ just _Bruce Wayne_ ’s son, I am the son of Batman. If you understood this you would let me go out there with you.”

Damian crossed his arms, unable to look at his Father for the anger he felt. It had been far too long since he’d come to Gotham with his Father, and yet he hadn’t been able to convince him to let him fight by his side. He felt like an utter failure. The blank letter stared at him accusingly.

“You speak as if you have not been sneaking out at night.”

He had to use all of his willpower not to react act that. He knew? Of course he knew. He’s Batman.

“I don’t know how you managed to get Alfred to keep this a secret from me, but I realize you might have felt cooped up in here, ” that was putting it lightly, “so I did not intervene. However, Im putting an end to this now.”

Damian let him talk to not implicate himself. He didn't know how much his Father knew and so he wouldn’t give him any ammunition.

“I don’t know if you’ve been getting careless or cocky, but I don’t appreciate either. This is serious and you could seriously injure yourself,” _or others_ , he didn’t say as Damian knew he was thinking. “I can’t allow you to go out there if you’re going to be this clumsy, it’s dangerous—“

“Sorry.” Damian stopped him, raising a hand up no longer able to keep quiet. “I'm afraid I don't follow. Whatever are you talking about Father?” Cocky? Careless? _Clumsy?_ None of these adjectives would ever be applicable to him. Okay, _maybe_ cocky, but clumsy was a stretch. Surely his Father hadn’t already started to go senile? 

“I allowed this because you were exacting a modicum of restraint, but as of late it has been easier to tell you’ve been following me, don’t think I haven’t noticed.”

“Following you? I have not done such a thing.” In the beginning, perhaps, but these days he was much too busy to play baby duckling after his father.

“Don’t play coy, Damian.” His Father got to his feet and suddenly Damian remembered how small he felt in front of him. But he didn’t let his posture show it. “I’ve told Alfred to inform me of your outings, and he _will_ do it this time. Playtime is over.” He walked over to the door, ready to leave—

“But Father!” Damian protested.

“Damian.” His Father said, looking over his shoulder, “This is for your own good. But, we will talk about it. Your proposal. Just, not now, son.” And with that, he left. The door closing behind him with a soft _click_.

His blood was boiling. He grabbed the blank letter and crumpled it in a ball, throwing it at the door. He sat heavily on his chair, making it cream against the force. 

His Father didn’t know what he was saying! He hadn’t been following him, he hadn’t for a long time. He had better things to do… though spying on some kids playing pretend games every so often didn’t feel like an improvement to tailing his father.

It would all pay off in the end though. He just needed to bid his time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whaaaat? POVs that arent Dick, Jason or Tims? Whats going on??  
> Hope you like this chapter, im glad i was able to find a way to get Damian and Barbara more involved to the plot. This intermission answers some mysteries from the past chapters in the best way I could without being too blunt lel.


	12. Chapter 12

“You know,” Barbara said as soon as the door opened, “when I said you could contact me if you needed help, this isn't exactly what I had in mind.”

Dick blinked at her in surprise, either because he wasn’t expecting her or because he didn’t know what she was talking about. He didn’t look very smart, so it could really be either way. Instead of answering to her complaint, he smiled brightly as if they were old friends. “Hey! It’s been a while! I’m Dick, in case you—“

“I remember.” She cut quickly and mentally berated herself almost immediately. This is why people didn’t like her. But Dick’s smile didn’t falter for a moment; instead he stepped aside to let her in and offered a hand to take her dripping raincoat and went to hook it on a side room, probably just for coats judging by the look of the house.

Barbara herself had been surprised at the address she’d been given, and even more so at the fancy house she had found herself in. She thought xXDraconianXx had been pranking her, though a prank was the most harmless possibility.

Barbara quickly inspected the entrance. It was clearly a rich man’s idea of what it meant to be rich. They probably expected guests to immediately come face to face with opulent abstract art sculptures and clean minimalism and realize just how above middle class they were. She had no care for it.

“Anyways, where is he?” She asked Dick as he returned from the coat room.

“Ah, the garage,” he lead her towards the back of the house, passing through a dark wood door and into the garage where they found Jason. He was talking very passionately as he hovered over a bike.

“—I mean this is practically new,” Jason sailed his fingers over the red, shiny-looking hybrid bike, “it could use some oiling though.”

“Well it's not like I know how to ride it anyways, I prefer to skate,” someone else replied.

“What a damn waste.”

“Hey guys,” Dick interrupted, “I brought Babs.”

“Barbara.” She corrected.

“...I brought Barbara.”

She looked at Jason still kneeling by the bike, he held his hand up and said: “Sup.”

“I- I’m nice to meet you. I mean, I’m Tim,” said the other boy, hastily getting to his feet from where he was sitting on a skateboard. He held out his hand and then promptly took it back upon realizing the oil staining his fingers.

Barbara nodded and reached out to take Tims hand as he was taking it back, she wanted to show them she wasn’t afraid to get her hands dirty. Literally. “You’re the one who contacted me? xXDraconianXx?” She asked, still shaking his hand.

“Yuh-Yeah.” He stammered, wobbling with the force of the handshake. “That… that was me. It’s so weird to meet you in person. I mean, not weird, you’re not weird.” Tim rambled, a nervous but honest smile tugging at his lips.

“You’re weird.” Barbara let go of his hand and crossed her arms. “You know, just because I’m a girl doesn’t mean I’m good at makeup.”

“O-oh!” Tim’s eyes widened, his gaze flickering towards the other two. He blushed, lowering his head. “Sorry, I… didn’t mean for it to come out that way,” he said in a quiet voice. “I just thought I was… I mean… I don’t. I don’t think that. It’s just the first thing that I, uh...”

She could tell he was embarrassed and decided to give him an out for the time being. “What are you guys doing here anyways?” She asked, looking over the garage. It was almost, if not just as tidy as the rest of the house. 

There were several work benches littered with equipment, as well as all sorts of wrenches and car parts lining up the walls and. In the middle of the room was the empty space where she could see an expensive car fit almost perfectly. The area around Jason and the bike was messy with tools and grime.

“Putting all this junk to good use,” said Jason, slapping the lid of a large red toolkit.

“My dad bought a lot of these tools because he thought it’d be fun for us to have Father-Son bonding through fixing a bike.” Tim said as way of explanation. “He ran out of patience when I kept correcting him and we haven’t touched it since. I don’t care for mechanics, but Jason seemed interested…”

“Huh, okay?” She didn’t see the appeal or why they were holed up in here but maybe it was a man cave situation. “Anyways, what am I doing? Who am I making over? Fair warning you might end up looking like a clown.”

“Hey!” Dick protested from the back of the room where he was juggling a bunch of bolt nuts. “That’s actually pretty hard to achieve!”

Barbara gave him an incredulous look and then turned to Tim as he tried to get her attention. “Uh, come with me.” He scrubbed his hands with a rag and motioned to the door back to the house.

Tim led her around the house to take her up to his room. She let her eyes wander around, taking notice of the little details, she couldn't help it. “Lots of photos. Not many of you though?”

Tim looked over his shoulder towards the picture up on the wall she’d been looking at just for a moment (it was a couple in some sort of desert resort), then resumed facing forward, not giving it much thought. “Ah, yeah, someone’s got to take the pictures. It’s um, a hobby of sorts.”

“Hmmm.” She thought that if someone displayed something she’d made in such a way she’d act proudly or at the very least bashful, but there were all sorts of people. The rich were a specially fickle bunch.

Tim’s room was exactly as she expected a guys room to be. Messy, spacious, lived in. Just like her own room, really, kind of. Except for the spacious part. There were more photos up on the wall and more than a few superhero paraphernalia. 

“You can sit anywhere,” Tim offered. She walked over to the desk chair and sat. Tim nodded and sat opposite to her on his bed. 

He seemed to be struggling to find a place to start talking and Barbara was surprised she did as well. It was the first time she’d met him in person after all. It was weird how easy it was to talk through a computer screen, but face to face all the topics of conversation just didn’t seem interesting enough. Not to mention she was curious about this favor he had asked of her.

She looked over at Tim, who was sitting awkwardly trying not to stare, bunching up his bed covers in his fists. She could clearly see the bruising in one of his cheeks and more than a few cuts. He was wearing two shirts, one underneath long sleeved, so she couldn’t really tell if he had any more bruises under it, but the answer was probably yes.

Barbara figured the other two must be on the same boat. Now that she thought about it, Dick had been sporting a few scrapes, but Jason had been too far and too covered in oil to properly tell. 

Maybe that’s what the makeup was for?  To hide the bruises from view? Though for whatever reason only Tim was in need to cover them up. Was this bullying? This was obviously Tim’s house, were the other two taking advantage of him? Clearly he was the smaller one, so she could see him losing in a fight, especially two on one. 

“Honestly, what kinda mess are you guys getting into?” She sighed heavily, crossing her arms..

Tim finally snapped from his reverie. “Oh… we’re just… training. And stuff.”

“Training? You know, I do Judo and I don't end up looking half as bad as you guys do.” She looked at her hands. “Sorry, I really don't know anything about makeup. I can work with computers and books, but with this I’m totally lost.” Not to mention she wouldn’t like to help cover up something like that. It wouldn’t be right.

“No, its…” Tim drew a chair and sat facing her. “Its okay. That’s not really... I mean I can take care of it. I’ve been doing some research.”

“Uh… okay?” She noticed a few fashion magazines on a nearby table, with tabs on the pages. He probably did more than just some research. “I just don't get why you asked me to do it then? Be honest, is it because im a girl? I promise I won't get mad... Much.”

“What! No! No!” Tim exclaimed facing up sharply, waving his arms wildly. “It's not that. It was... I realize now how it looks, I swear that wasn't my intention...”

“So you’ve said.” She waited for him to continue but he seemed to be getting lost in his own thoughts. She sighed and leaned back. “Then? Why am I here?”

“Do you… okay.” He sat up, as if bracing himself. “This will be sort of an odd question and, feel free not to answer, but… What do you think, when the commissioner goes out to catch criminals?”

She blinked at him surprised. That question had come out of nowhere. Tim was looking at her, as if he didn’t want to miss the most minuscule of reactions.

“What do I think? What do you mean?”

“Do you get scared? That something might happen to him?”

“Of course I do.” She frowned. “What kind of question is that? This is Gotham.” She lifted her legs onto the chair and hugged her knees. “Of course I do.” She mumbled. “Why do you ask?” She wondered after a few moments in silence. 

“I have never been this scared. These things were doing… that were about to do. I'm scared.”

She didn't know what they were about to do, but she saw the bruise on his cheek again. She looked at his bruised cheeks. “You don't have to do it. Are they making you?”

He shook his head. “That's not it. They're not making me. But it feels like, I drove them towards it and now the best I can do is try to help.” He got up from the bed and walked towards one of the cork boards, looking at the pictures with a frown. He suddenly turned to look at her, “I don’t want to do that to you too, but I don’t know what else to do.” He said, his voice cracking towards the end. He quickly turned his face away and rubbed his arm over his eyes.

She was confused by this admission, coming from a stranger she had ever only talked to through a computer. Her throat had closed upon hearing his words and she worried seeing his face in tears would bring out something from her she didn't want to see.

Why was this stranger, this kid that was probably younger than her, sounding so afraid for her? What was he protecting her from? It didn’t seem fair.

“I wish I could help him, my dad,” she said, Tim was still looking away but he was quiet, so she continued. “He comes home tired every day, because of many things I can do nothing about. Criminals on the streets, the crooked cops, politicians, reporters, all breathing down his neck every day. But im just a kid, there's nothing I can do.” 

So far it didn't sound uplifting, she thought. She was running in circles, trying to say something that could make him feel better. Whatever it was that had held her up all these years had suddenly become foggy.

“You feel helpless, I know how you feel. But i've seen it… The smile on his face when we chat in the mornings, his relaxed brow when I tell him about my day.” She rubbed her cheek. “I’m sure you’ve seen it yourself, with your parents, when they hang your photos on the walls.”

Tim didn’t reply, so she crossed her arms and hummed, “I don't know what kind of face he'd make if he knew I gave you guys the police files, probably not very happy.” Tim chuckled. “But my intentions are good, and im trying my best. If there is anything I can do to try and help, I won’t ever hesitate.”

“I never thought about it that way… with my parents,” Tim admitted, still looking away.

“I disagree, I bet you have, subconsciously at least. That you want to make the people you care about happy.” She turned from looking at the back of his head to her hands clenched into fists, “I don't know what you guys are up to or if it'd be the right thing to do, but just being there for him has helped my Dad, so I want to do more.”

Tim finally turned to look at her, a soft shy smile on his lips and eyes shining. “Sorry about this,” he said through a wet chuckle. “The fact is that I asked you to help me with ‘makeup’ because I didn't know if it was safe to say it through messages…

“You mentioned you wished to be able to help… when it came to criminals and crooked cops.” He prefaced. “I have an idea, but you might not like it.”

“What do you have in mind?”

Tim opened a drawer and took out what could only be a flip phone, it was black with a red lid. “I will explain everything to you, but fair warning,” he handed her the phone, the blue led screen showed the time, “this might get you in trouble.”

* * *

 

Barbara looked out the window of the car as her dad drove them to the station. It was a Saturday, so she usually spent the afternoon there after volunteering at the library. Her dad didn’t like her to be home alone for so long. 

She glanced up at the rear view mirror and caught her dad's eyes looking back at her. She arched an eyebrow and he returned his attention to the road.

“How did your play session go? New friends?”

She shrugged. “Kind of. They’re alright.”

“I was surprised you asked to stay the night.”

“We had lots to talk about.”

“Oh?” The eyes returned to looking at her through the mirror, they had stopped at a red light. “Talk about what?”

“Yknow, girl stuff. Makeup and boys and stuff,” she answered noncommittally. 

“Boys and stuff, huh. Hrm. Anything I need to know about?”

“Nope.” She knew she was being too vague with her cover story, and being cagey would only make her dad more suspicious but adding too many details could be even worse. Better have him think about this than suspect she was acting weird.

They fell silent as he drove them the rest of the way. His fingers drumming to the tune of Roberta Flack’s soft voice coming from the beat up car radio.

They pulled up to his usual parking spot, the label “Commissioner” clearly setting it apart from every other spot. He turned on his seat to look at her face to face. “You know, if there’s… anything you ever want to talk about, I’m here.”

“I know, dad.”

“Even boys and stuff. We can, uh, we can talk about it.”

“Okay?” She wasn’t going to because she didn’t want to get in trouble, plus it would put the entire plan in jeopardy.

He scrubbed at his mustache for a moment before nodding. He unclipped the seat belt and went to open the door of the car when Barbara spoke up again.

“Say, dad, do you think I can stay in the car today?”

He turned back to look at her confused. “Stay in the car?”

She lifted up her backpack and hugged it against herself, “I need to work on an essay and the precinct is too noisy, I can’t concentrate.”

He widened his eyes, “Can’t you work in my office like usual?”

“I could…” she deflected “but you get a lot of phone calls and people go in and out of your office all the time…”

She glanced his way and saw him thinking it over. Eventually he sighed and said, “Alright, I’ll keep the keys in, but don’t unlock the doors unless it’s me alright?”

“Okay.”  _ Score! _

“And keep the windows open just a little.”

“Okay.”

“I’ll come to get you at dinner time so you can stretch your legs.”

“Got it.”

They sat there for a moment, looking at one another. He seemed to want to say something but couldn’t find the words to. Eventually he simply said his goodbyes and left, the door clicking softly after him.

She watched him for a moment until he disappeared into the building. 

She quickly jumped up from the backseat and wiggled her way into the front passenger seat. The radio had quietly transitioned from Flack to Chicago, so she quickly turned it off, the radio DJ was clearly in a mood.

She turned her attention to the big black box resting over the regular radio. She’d seen her dad use it enough times to have a general idea how to use the scanner. She turned it on and toggled it to an already registered frequency. 

The police radio dispatcher wasn’t always active but she could hear them patch into the frequency and talk in code to the officers on patrol. 

Barbara took out her books and the phone Tim had given her the day before. She set it in front of her and kept an ear open for anything that might be useful as she started working on homework. The essay thing hadn’t been a lie.

Every few minutes the scanner frequency would crackle and the dispatch would rattle off a long code of numbers and words that wouldn’t make sense to a layman. 

Back when she was 10 Barbara had memorized every single Gotham Police code for a school presentation. Her dad had been impressed, but other than that and an A+ it hadn’t been useful since. That is until now.

Every time she heard the different codes she took a second or two to decode what the dispatcher and the patrol cars were discussing.

Gunshots reported, discovered dead bodies in dark alleys, muggings, hit and runs. All in the span of just a few hours. She had never paid this much attention to all the crime that happened around her constantly. She knew it was a lot, she was the commissioners daughter after all. But hearing every individual one, the cops were basically fighting a losing battle.

Still, she was listening for something different. All of these reports sounded complex, and frankly? Really dangerous.

Tim has said to use her judgement, but she had seen how worried he’d been. How determined they all were. They needed to start simple. She couldn’t just trust them into a police shootout, they wouldn’t stand a chance.

She was almost halfway through her essay when she heard something mildly interesting from the dispatcher.

A patrol car had answered the report but she already wasn’t paying attention as she reached for the phone in front of her. She dialed one of the only two numbers registered and waited.

“Got a hit, 4 blocks north of Yeavenly towards Byron Avenue, between 441A and 450A,” she said, as quickly as the call connected. “Apparently some suspicious people loitering about. It might be nothing though, you know how people are.”

“ _ Got it! _ ” Tim replied and just as quick as his response, the line went dead.

She bit her lip. She hoped she wasn’t making a mistake. If something happened to them, it would be her fault. And yet again she found herself stuck waiting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter... it’s going down.  
> Sorry for any mistakes in this chapter, I have no excuse I’m just sorry.  
> This story is turning out longer than I figured, but I’m having fun. Thanks for reading!


	13. Chapter 13

Damian made his way quickly from rooftop to rooftop, blending into deep shadows without letting himself linger in one place for too long. This routine had become almost second nature, to the point that he’d be able to make his way to the old theater even blinded.

Every other day he checked in on his target, to make sure he hadn’t yet failed his self imposed mission. He usually arrived on the cusp of the time when the other two fools were ready to depart, though. He had no interest in their antics in the slightest.

Damian had witnessed way too many of their “training” sessions to be able to stomach any more of it. Their amateur attempts to become street ready were laughable at best. 

Damian had years of training instilled upon him by the best masters in the League of Assassin’s since a very young age, and not even then did Batman deem him ready to take on fighting criminals. Not that he considered his Father to be an authority on the subject anymore, seeing how he stubbornly refused to see reason. He tried not to be bitter about it too much, however, he was biding his time. He’d show his father how wrong he was.

Though, he would never admit to mirroring some of his targets acrobatic movements from his hiding spot, where he smirked whenever he perfected any of their silly dance numbers. But that had gotten old pretty fast. Damian was a genius after all. And so now he stuck to watching from within the shadows when the other two left the premises. 

The rowdier one, Todd, usually stuck around the longest, and some days he didn’t leave at all. Those days the two of them would hang about the better lit areas of the theater and attempted to read. Or rather, Todd did, Grayson would simply bounce around as if they hadn't just finished pouring sweat on the board floors of the old stage. But Damian didn’t care about that. They could do whatever they liked. All he was here to do was observe. 

He landed quietly on the roof of the Theater, his cape fluttering after him. He walked towards his usual entrance—a busted patch of roof likely caused by water damage—and dropped down onto the support beam directly beneath.

He inspected his surroundings in the darkness. Unlike his father, he had no use for “night vision” in his domino mask’s lenses, though they helped a little. He spent enough time in a dark hole, deprived of any sort of stimulation for his senses to have that particular problem fixed for him. He had the League to thank for that.

A quick cursory look told him the place was deserted. There were no sounds coming from the echo-y halls of the old theater, other than the chirping of rats. They were all a loud bunch, so he wouldn’t have missed them. Even when it was only his target, he usually kept himself in one place, near the stage. Predictably.

But their absence came as no surprise to Damian. This was just one of several of his targets usual haunts. He could be in the nearby diner, where he and his leeches sometimes ate after training. Or the house of the mousy one.

It was boring to stake out these locations as they didn’t even entertain him with lousy training. They just sat around wasting his time. Talking. Still, he figured he’d confirm his location before making his way back to the Manor. His father had gradually stopped bugging him about sneaking out, he didn’t need him to start again by giving him real reasons.

He exited the theater the same way he’d entered and walked towards the front of the building. He looked above the large marquee, announcing in bold letters the next shows that never came. 

Damian stared down at the street, making sure he wouldn’t miss his mark completely on his way back, as it had happened before. Satisfied, he ran towards the edge of the roof on the opposite side and jumped, holding onto the outer wall and climbing up the adjacent buildings windowsills and piping. There were no wasted movements, his actions were efficient, fast and practical.

He built up enough momentum to leap off the side of an apartment building and onto the street, landing, somewhat loudly, on top of a passing bus. If the driver noticed, he didn’t stop. 

Damian sat cross legged on the roof of the bus after checking it’s route by looking at its reflection on oncoming cars. He wrapped himself up in his cape, not only to protect himself from the wind but also to make himself smaller. He didn’t want to be noticed by anyone with more than two brain cells.

He wanted to reserve his energy. Making the trip from the Theater all the way to Midtown was a pain he wouldn’t have to deal with if his father allowed him to drive his precious vehicles. No matter though, Damian was resourceful. There was no shame in abusing public transportation for all the good that it did in its current state.

It was a long trip to East City so he let his eyes wander, looking over the streets as people walked in a hurried pace. A quick check to the sky and it confirmed his suspicion that the weather was about to sour. Gotham was sort of peaceful in its own chaotic sort of way. Even in Crime Alley the city worked like clockwork. People lingered on their front doors leering at passerby, talking loudly across streets, cars impatiently honked their way around. 

It made odd things easier to stand out.

The bus screeched to a halt so suddenly, Damian lurched forward. He turned the movement into a controlled barrel roll to prevent himself from flying off the roof. He cursed under his breath at the driver’s careless maneuver but it was drowned by the honking coming from below and behind.

He watched as three kids sped past the front of the bus just as he was righting himself . One of them raised a hand and gave some empty apologies, even as they continued on their way. Alarm bells started taking over the annoying honking in his head. He could recognize that voice anywhere.

Damian immediately jumped off the roof of the bus and started pursuing the three kids, leaping from car to car and then veering off to the side to climb the side of a brownstone. He quickly directed himself to the edge and for a moment he felt dread in his stomach thinking he had lost them, but they reappeared again from behind a truck. He vaulted off to the next building, keeping an eye on the kids as he trailed them.

Graysons voice and two other knuckleheads, it didn’t take a genius to figure it out.

Grayson was riding the back of a bike, standing on the foot pegs of the back tire. He couldn’t actually see his face to confirm his suspicion though. He was wearing a bicycle helmet and a blue scarf across his neck, it fluttered in the wind as the bike took a sharp turn.

The one pedaling could be either Todd or Drake, and he usually could tell them apart easily by size, but all three of them were wearing concealing clothes. Helmets, scarves, heavy looking coats and jackets. 

Grayson was being tacky, his jacket and scarf were brightly colored and immediately stood out. The boy riding in front of him was wearing a tan leather jacket and a bandana over his mouth instead of a long flowing scarf. The remaining boy was riding a skateboard, his own red scarf was the only splash of color on his otherwise all black ensemble, he wasn’t wearing a helmet so much as he was wearing protective goggles. These clothes were very much outside the usual.

To the ignorant outsiders they may have simply looked like a group of vandals looking for trouble. But Damian knew better. 

In conclusion, they  _ were  _ looking for trouble. The kind that they shouldn't be.

Damian followed them from the shadows and out of sight, watching with dismay the way the three kids tore through the street with no care of traffic signs or even traffic itself.

The busy Main Street eventually lead to a more quiet backstreet. Damian perched himself on a lamppost, making sure to catch his cape, lest it flutter and give away his presence.

He watched as the three kids discarded their modes of transportation, and huddled themselves flush against a wall. Damian noted that if he were a passerby, the angle of the wall and the shadow cast by the lamppost from that direction would conceal them almost perfectly. If he hadn’t been following them he might have lost sight of them already. But not for long, of course.

Especially with how loud their whispering was. 

He could now tell by the flailing arms and hurried hissing that the red and black one was Drake, and the one leaning lazily against the wall pretending to hide his tension was Todd. 

He couldn’t quite catch their conversation from this height and reading their lips was out of the question with the way they were dressed. Not that it would have mattered, as something happening on the street caught their attention and they quieted down.

Damian turned to see three men were walking down the street, arm in arm, singing loudly and off-key. They swayed as a group from side to side, swinging empty bottles and laughing merrily. Damian thought they would continue down the street and out of sight, but they stopped—as much as drunken people can stop moving—two houses to the left where the kids were currently hiding. 

Damian noticed the kids watching intently as the men huddled against a door, still laughing and singing as one of them seemingly fiddled with his keys. He didn’t understand what was so interesting about this until he heard a deep crack. The sound had almost gone hidden beneath their drunken exclamations; and he hadn’t been the only one to pick it up, judging by the way Drake and Grayson jerked in surprise.

The men filled in one after another into the house. There was a moment of quiet, then several lights inside the house turned on one after the other, making their path obvious. He couldn’t hear the men singing and laughing anymore.

He knew what this was, it was almost laughable. Breaking into a house in the most telegraphed way possible, to make people think you belong there. It was the oldest trick in the book. They’d probably take any valuables and scram before anyone’s the wiser. They had probably cased the location beforehand to make sure this ruse would work. It was so dumb it was almost not as dumb.

They would have easily fooled the neighbors long enough. But they hadn’t fooled Damian. He’d had half a mind to quickly apprehend these foolish men before he realized what what happening. He had completely forgotten about the three hooligans below him.

In a blink, the kids were at the door, quietly entering the house. It now dawned on him what was going on, and he couldn’t believe they were foolish to think they were capable of attempting this in the first place.

He figured it was better for them to realize that the hard way, it was gonna happen sooner rather than later anyways, he argued. They needed to learn not to bite more than they could chew. And if it took three grown men to beat it into their senses, then so be it. That’s what they wanted, that’s what they’d get.

He watched as all the lights went out in the building, the breaker probably jumped, leaving everything in complete darkness. He heard the men exclaim in surprise, so it had probably been the kids.

Damian chewed his lips as he waited for anything else to happen. He expected the sounds of a scuffle to start any second now.

But what if, an annoying part of his brain told him, what if these men were armed? They usually were. Then these kids wouldn’t just get beaten, they’d be killed. 

But so what? People died every day for being foolish, this was no different.

Except he was here, and it was his job to make sure that didn’t happen.

And even if they just got beaten, wasn't Grayson supposed to be under his protection? If something happened to him it would fall on his shoulder. His father would easily make the connection, see that he was here and did nothing.

He’d be exactly who his father thinks he is.

There was a loud banging sound, and shouts were now coming from the building. Without thinking about it twice, Damian flung himself towards the closest window, protecting his body with his cape as the glass shattered with the impact.

He rolled to his feet and quickly but silently navigated the house towards the closest sounds of scuffle.

The bedroom door was wide open and the streetlight offered little in the way of a proper field of vision, but Damian could see one of the men push Todd bodily against the wall, pushing the air out of his lungs.

“What the fuck do you gremlins think you’re doing here?!” The thug hollered.

From where he was slumped on the floor, Todd wiped the blood off his mouth and grinned, “Could ask the same to  _ you _ !” He grabbed the crowbar that had clattered beside him and swung it at the thugs knee. The man crumpled to the ground with a cry of pain.

Before he could get up, Todd fixed his grip on the crowbar and stood unsteadily, he swung upwards and brought down the crowbar onto the man’s back over and over again.

Damian figured he could handle himself. 

He ran down the hallway and jumped down the stairs and onto the first floor. There was more chaos in this area than above so he figured the last two men were here.

He made his way to the living room and saw upturned furniture and in the back of the room the outline of a huge man facing the wall. He couldn’t see any of the kids but he was able to pick up a choked up attempt at speaking.

He moved farther into the room and from this angle he could now see a small form pressed against the wall, a hand pinning him in place by the neck. 

There were gunshots coming from a different room but Damian needed to deal with the current situation first.

Damian quickly scanned the floor and saw a handgun and a familiar umbrella on the floor. Drake. He had probably managed to get the gun off the man’s hands before he realized he didn’t need it.

Damian took the gun and bashed the back of the man’s head with the butt. The thug crumpled to the ground, together with Drake who was now gasping for breath, his eyes closed tightly.

“I totally… totally had that guy,” Drake managed to say as he attempted to get up on unsteady feet.

“Look for Todd on the second floor,” Damian said, emulating Graysons voice perfectly as he checked on the man. He was bleeding from his ears, so he probably wouldn’t be getting up any time soon. 

“O-Okay?” said Tim through ragged breaths. He had managed to get on all fours. “What’s... What's happening?”

“We’re leaving!” Damian didn’t stay long enough to catch Drakes look of confusion, as he finally raised his head. He still had one more thug to go.

“Since when do you call him Todd?” Drake called out. Damian ignored it.

He went straight towards the kitchen where he could hear the gunshots coming, as well as the exasperated shouts of the remaining man.

“Stay still, you damn rat!”

“Maybe,” he could hear now Grayson say, right as a gun shot rang out, “you should have called the exterminators!” There was another shot and now Damian could see them as he entered the darkness of the kitchen.

Grayson was hanging by one hand on the overhead rack above the counter, making the pots and pans hanging from it clang against each other. He was swinging a bat with his other hand, though he didn't seem to have any intention to use it. The man was moving his aim from side to side with Graysons erratic movements.

Grayson must have seen an opportunity as he swung forward and kicked the man’s face, using him as a springboard to move behind him. 

The man grunted in pain but quickly recovered, aiming his gun once more, “I said, stay still!” 

Damian ran in and kicked the man’s arms upwards just as he took his shot. There was a small whimper behind him. 

He turned to look at Grayson, who was wincing, holding the bat in front of his face, the wood was shattered down the middle. Grayson blinked at him in confusion and then looked startled.

“Watch out!” 

Damian ducked as the man had swatted his large hand towards him. He moved swiftly into a handspring and moved out of the way.

With the man’s attention on Damian, Grayson swung the bat at his back and it completely split in two. 

“Oy, that’s no good.”

Grayson scrambled to grab the other piece of the broken bat and rolled to his back. The man aimed his gun at him and Grayson instinctively put his hands up, locking the gun with the two bat pieces and luckily drove the shot astray.

Damian jumped on the man’s back and wrapped his cape over his face. The man bucked wildly, trying to fling him off to no avail. 

Predictably he tried to ram his back onto the closest wall, so Damian vaulted forwards, his cape still wrapped around the man’s head bringing him over with him. As he landed on his back, Damian shot his feet upward, catching the man on his chest and pushing him outwards, causing the man to land hard on his back.

Grayson wrestled the handgun from the now slack grip the man had on it and threw it to the side. The thug clawed at the fabric around his face, trying to get it off. Damian saw a knife rack at arms length, took one and swiftly lodged it in the man’s neck. The thug went still almost as quickly.

He unwrapped his cape from the man’s face and turned to look at Grayson, who was staring at him almost unblinking.

“Jason, Tim! Let’s go!” Damian said again in Graysons voice, which startled the boy in front of him.

He walked the short distance between them and in his best Batman impression he said, “Now.”

Grayson didn’t wait to be told twice and ran towards the entrance to meet his partners in crime.

Damian went the short way, going out of the kitchen window and climbing up the side of the building. He peeked into the first room he’d burst into and saw the thug still out cold in a pool of his own blood. Satisfied that they were all taken care of, he continued all the way up to the roof and out of sight.

He watched as the three kids scrambled out of the building, holding one another up and gathering the bike and skateboard that had gone forgotten before, then walking towards the main street. 

He figured they wouldn’t get into more trouble for the night, but just to be safe he figured he’d make sure they would get home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Even though its their first time fighting I wanted to show their different fighting methods without showing too much (lots of fic left for that). Jason is a bit more brutal, Tim thinks about disarming and Dick about distracting, Damian finishes his fights. Its fun!
> 
> I wanted to have this chapter from Damians perspective so it really expressed how batshit this entire plan is, YOURE GONNA FIGHT CRIME? YOURE BABIES, CALL 911
> 
> Next up: Do we count that as a win or...?


	14. Chapter 14

They made the trip back by bus, as it had started to rain almost as soon as they had exited the broken-in house. They had to keep a low profile, seeing how the police arrived almost immediately after they left.

Dick hadn't noticed how much he'd been running on adrenaline until he finally plopped down on a seat by the window. He raised his hand to his face and watched his fingers tremble. This was a familiar sensation, one he hadn't felt in a while now. He’d wanted to chase that feeling, as it had been over much too soon, but he knew it was wrong to think that.

As if to prove his point, Tim sat down heavily next to him, back from paying their fares at the front. He hunched forward with a sigh before remembering he had company and straightening up in his seat, holding his skateboard and his umbrella on his lap. He offered Dick a small smile with a hint of quiet dismay. It was a very Tim-like smile, he'd come to learn.

Dick guiltily flexed his fingers, trying to dispel the vibrations still coming from within him. “Are you okay?” he asked.

Tim adjusted the collar of his red turtleneck and cleared his voice before saying, “Yes, I’m well. Thank you for…” he didn't finish the sentence, instead making a gesture with his hand that Dick didn't understand.

Tims eyes shifted from Dick towards the window at the other side of him. Dick followed his gaze, but there wasn't much to look at. The rain blurred the view and all they could make out were the faint halos of the street lights. They watched as the unmistakable blue and red lights of a police car sped by.

“You guys can stay over if you want,” Tim said, still looking at the raindrops hit the glass, “It must be cold back at the Theater.”

“Yes, and it's like listening to a depressed drummer, too,” Dick joked. “Thank you, Tim. I'll take you up on that.” Tim nodded in acknowledgment.

Dick turned in his seat to look at the row behind him, but did not see Jason at first. He craned his neck to look over the back of his seat and found him laying down, claiming both both seats, and then a third on the other side of the bus where he was resting his feet. The bike was nestled between their rows. Jason’s eyes were closed, but they had just gotten on the bus, so he didn't think he was asleep. 

“What about you, Jason? You staying over?” Dick tried.

He made a grunting sound and gave them a dismissive wave of the hand.

Tim had turned to look at Jason as well and had opened his mouth, presumably to chastise him about proper public transportation etiquette, but seemed to change his mind last second. Instead he turned back around and slumped in his seat with a tired sigh.

Dick glanced between the two boys and raised his hand back up. He found it was still shaking.

* * *

They arrived at Tim's place soaked and miserable, but mostly soaked. Tim took their wet clothes and murmured something about taking it to the back with the rest of the laundry load, before disappearing down the hallway.

On the first few days this would have left Dick and Jason awkwardly lingering wherever Tim left them, be it the entrance or the living room, before they slowly relaxed. Nowadays they felt more comfortable around the house, though still uneasy about touching anything that looked  _ too _ valuable. 

Jason went straight to the kitchen and Dick followed after him. He opened the fridge door and stared at it as if it held the answers of the universe. Dick could see about five different edible things from where he was seated at the counter, but it was a bad habit of Jason’s and Tim had already given up on telling him off, so he didn't even bother.

“How’re you holding up?” Dick asked to fill the silence.

He hummed, opening drawers inside the fridge and turning his nose at whatever he found. “Swell.”

“Okay.”

Jason turned his head to look at Dick briefly, he was smiling but the look he had on his face was full of scepticism. “That it?”

“Is what it?”

He shrugged and returned to his task of staring at the fridge’s contents. “Dunno, usually you pester me until I give you the answer you want, nosy as you are.”

“It's called concern, asshole.”

Jason laughed. “Just fucking with you,” he straightened up and looked at Dick again, his smile more genuine now, “really, I’m good. I’ve had worse days.”

“Yeah, I--” his next words went forgotten as they heard a noise coming from the hallway. 

They poked their heads out of the kitchen and looked at the entrance where the sounds were coming from. There was a metallic jingling and a click as the front door unlocked. The doorknob twisted and they watched as the door opened before stopping abruptly a few inches in due to the door chain lock. Someone cursed under their breath.

“Timothy? Timothy, come open the door!”

Loud footsteps grabbed their attention from the person at the door, as Tim came barreling from the back and almost slipped making a hard turn. His face was distraught as he stopped in front of them.

“Timothy? Are you there?” Though the door was open slightly, the woman knocked on the wood lightly. “Hurry up, it's raining cats and dogs out here, boy!” 

“Uh, in a second Mrs. Mac!” Tim shouted back, though it came out strained. “I’m not wearing pants!” He cringed as soon as the words left his mouth.

The woman gasped. “Timothy!”

He turned sharply towards them, “Quick, go to my room!” he whispered urgently, pointing in the direction of his room even though they already knew where it was. “And be quiet!”

“What's going on?” Dick tried asking at the same time the woman at the door, Mrs. Mac, called Tims name again.

“No time, go, go, go!” Tim said pushing at their backs.

They complied and went up the stairs quietly, which came easy with Tims training. Dick was reaching for the door of Tim’s room when Jason grabbed him by the arm. He held a finger up to his lips and lead the both of them at the top of the stairs, where they were partly out of sight, crouching behind a large house plant.

They watched as Tim unlatched the lock and opened the door.

“Mrs. McIlvane! Sorry, I didn’t know you’d be coming over today,” Tim said, his voice barely carrying over.

“I don't know why you put this blasted thing on the door.” The woman said, and they could see her now, coming inside. She was an elderly woman, not much taller than Tim himself. She draped her raincoat over one arm and looked at Tim sternly. “I've told you many times--”

“‘If someone really wanted to come in, a little chain wouldn't stop them.’ Yes, I know, believe me.” Dick could almost hear the eye roll in his voice.

“I’ll say, the ideas kids these days get.” She went over to the coat rack and hung the dripping raincoat on it and dropper her umbrella in its place by the door. “It's all those video games I tell you. That Boom Game--”

“It’s Doom, Mrs. Mac.”

“Whatever the devil it's called, rotting your minds that is.” She locked the door back up and turned back to Tim. “Say did you catch a bug? You’re speaking strange.”

“Strange? Uh, no. I mean, probably,” he coughed, as if on cue, “Its been getting colder.”

“Tell me about it. I had to walk from the subway stop all the way here in the cold to bring you these.” She said, walking towards the kitchen, though the volume of her voice didnt dim. “Oh, clean up the living room will you, its unsightly. Honestly.”

“Oh, nuts. Sorry about that.” They finally parted ways as Tim disappeared into the living room and the older lady busied herself up in the kitchen.

Jason seemed satisfied with his eavesdropping and went over to Tim’s room, Dick following close behind.

“Never seen her before,” Dick said conversationally. They hadn't and it was by design. Tim didn't want anyone he knew to find out about them, or they'd jeopardize their entire plan. That's why they only hung out at Tim's place on select days. Or at least that's the explanation Tim gave them, which made sense on all accounts.

Jason flopped onto Tims bed, linking his hands behind his head. “Think that's his mom?” 

“He called her Mrs. Mac, so I doubt it. Maybe his grandma?”

“Would you call your grandma Mrs.?”

“There was Haly’s wife at the circus and we called her Madame. She was sort of like a grandma.”

“Fair enough.”

Dick stood there with the door at his back, looking as Jason’s eyes drifted closed.

Dick hated the awkward silences that seemed to be following them ever since they left the bust. He wanted to shake the both of them and ask what they thought about their first outing, their honest opinion. He wanted to know if they also felt that tingling, excited feeling in their guts. He wanted to ask if they had seen the masked boy this time around.

Instead he asked, “Will you be staying over, after all?”

“With ‘Mrs. Mac’ around? Sounds tough, but well see.” Jason opened one eye and glanced at him curiously. “Why do you keep asking?”

Dick shrugged and went over to sit at the foot of the bed. “Just asking for the sake of asking. Thought maybe it’d be just me and Tim, and you'd be missing out on the fun.”

“It's Tim and I. And we had plenty of fun for the day. Though I have no reason to go home for now, so.”

It was the first time any of them had acknowledged what they had done earlier, and he could very easily latch onto it. But something was stopping him. “What about your mom?”

“What about her?”

“Well, you live with her. Does she know you won't be coming back tonight? She might get worried.”

“I come and go whenever I please.” Jason turned to his side, facing the wall, away from Dick. “Sides, she's got other stuff in her mind right now. Probably out there visiting the old man.”

“Oh.”

He must have said it in a weird tone, as Jason turned to glare back at him. “What ‘oh’?”

Dick raised a hands appeasingly, “I just mean it's the first time you mentioned your dad since, well, the first time.”

Jason stared at him for a moment as if trying to catch him in a lie before slumping back down on the bed. “Yeah, well. There's not much to say about that guy. Other than ‘fuck him’.”

“I get it you don't get along?” Dick asked, tucking one foot under himself.

“Understatement of the year. Let's just say he's a piece of shit who deserved what came to him.”

“But your mom…”

“His number one fan. She knows the red flags are there but she falls for em every time. Dumbass.” He said, though the last word did not hold as much heat as before.

“I'm sorry--” Dick began, but Jason shot back up to a sitting position.

“Don't do that,” he said, his eyes flashing with _ something _ . “Don't give me that. I don't want pity from you.”

Dick stared at him wide eyed. He never knew what buttons made Jason upset and he always seemed to press the wrong ones. He wanted to apologize to him but he knew that would only make him feel worse.

“Wipe that look off your face, it's disgusting.” Jason said, throwing a pillow at Dick.

Tim chose that moment to slip into the room quietly, locking the door behind himself. His hands were full of books and by the looks of it more than a few snacks. Tim sighed at the door and banged his forehead on the wood softly. He turned to look at them with a shy smile.

“Sorry about squirreling you away like this.” He walked over to his desk and dropped the load of books on top of it. “I didn't know Mrs. Mac was gonna come today, it wasn't in the calendar.”

“That's okay,” Dick said. He wondered if his parents visits were also marked in a calendar.

Jason had gotten up at the sight of snacks and promptly snatched away a baggie of the stuff. “Took you a while to get back.”

“Ah, yeah. We usually watch the game shows while I do homework, so it was pretty hard to get away.” He leaned back on his desk and looked from one to the other. “What were you guys talking about?”

“Nothing,” said Jason, at the same time Dick said, “Parents.” Jason threw a chip at him and it bounced off his face and onto the floor.

“Are we talking about nothing or are we talking about parents?” Tim said, bending over to pick up the offending chip and throwing it on the trash can beside him.

Jason groaned. “We’re not talking about parents.” 

“What are your parents like, Tim?” Dick asked with a smile, ignoring Jason’s look. “Don't know much about them other than the pictures.”

“Oh they're pretty great. My mom is very smart, well, my dad is too, but a different kinda smart.” Tim said, reaching over the bag of chips and grabbing a handful, he seemed thoughtful for a second. “They travel all over the world, doing archeological expeditions and stuff. They always have the coolest stories.”

“That does sound very cool.” 

“You ever been to one of these places?” Jason asked, with sudden interest. “With dinosaur bones and stuff?”

“Oh, they don't do dinosaurs. Just ancient artifacts and stuff. I've never been, personally. But my dad says once I’m older I’ll be able to go with them.”

“That's so strange to think about, an age to travel. I can't remember a time where we weren't constantly moving with the circus.” He gazed out of the window, where the rain was still beating the glass rhythmically. 

He noticed the other two watching the rain as it filled the silence. It wasn’t awkward like before. It felt like their usual silences, where they could almost feel eachother synch up their thoughts.

“So, let me address the big painful elephant in the room, as per usual,” Tim began, dragging out the seat from under his desk and settling down on it. “We didn’t do great.”

“Really?” Jason asked sarcastically, plopping himself back down on the bed. “I think it went exactly as it was going to go.”

Tim wagged a finger, “No, it went slightly better than the worst case scenario, which was, let’s face it, the most realistic. But it still wasn’t great.”

He didn’t have to say it. They managed to get away with minimal injuries, but the men were armed, it could have been worse.

He had been able to keep the man at bay for a while but if it hadn’t been for the masked boy he would have been toast. The broken bat now laying at the foot of the bed was proof of that.

“We need to get better, and sadly there’s no other way to do so than to keep going. But, we have to be all in. This was a wake up call, it’s not gonna be easy and I’m afraid that...“ Tim’s fears were left unsaid, but they all knew it. They've had this kind of conversation before, about failure and consequences.

Every time they would look up at him just as they were now, to make a choice. Because they were doing all of this for him, but they had all put enough effort into it that quitting was already out of the question. It would just end in disappointment and a deep feeling of uncertainty, of not knowing what would happen then, to him, most of all. This was by far the clearest path they had in front of them, but it was still steeped in shadow.

He knew how scary it was to perform a new routine for the first time. But back then he hadn't been alone and he overcome his fear every time.

“It’ll be okay, Tim,” Dick said, trying to emulate what his own father used to tell him, “we just need to put our all into it. It wasn’t easy, but it’s not impossible. We’re here right now, I think we can do it.”

The Graysons had overcome their fears together every time they prepared to soar, to do what other people couldn't. Until they hadn’t gone back up.

Like that man in the kitchen floor, bleeding from his neck.

Dick suddenly realized why that tingling feeling in his gut was so alike the one he got before and after performing. Why the shaking of his hand was so familiar. 

He was afraid. 

He needed to tell them about the kid in the mask, the kid that stuck a knife in a man's neck without thinking about it twice.

He jumped when there was a sudden knock on the door, but it went unnoticed by the other two boys who were equally surprised. “Timothy, there's some girl on the phone asking for you! Some Barbie Jordan? I don’t recognize her,” said Mrs. Mac from the other side of the door.

Tim gasped. “Barbara. Ohhh man, I totally forgot to report back,” he whispered, biting his lip. “Don't hang up, Mrs. Mac! She's a… classmate!”

“Girls calling boys at this hour, really,” she said, her muffled voice moving away from the door.

“I'll be right back,” Tim said to them, adjusting the neck of his sweater. Tim cracked open the door slightly to look out before leaving. The door clicked softly after him.

Dick let out a breath he didn’t realize he'd been holding.

“Barbie, now that's funny. Think she'll be angry if I start calling her that?”

Dick turned to look at Jason and noticed the wet splotches in his pant legs were probably not just mud, but he couldn't be sure. He looked down at himself. He couldn’t see any blood on him but maybe Tim and Jason could, and they just didn’t mention it. That he had the blood of that man on him.

“Hey, Earth to Dick. You good?” Jason was sitting up beside him now, wagging a hand in front of Dicks face. His fingers brushed against his arm to get his attention, but Dick recoiled from the touch, though he hadn't meant to. Jason frowned, but didn’t attempt to touch him again. “Anything you want to talk about?”

There were many things he wanted to say, to ask. But his head was a complete mess at the moment. He couldn't find the right words. He was going to be sick.

“I just… need to wash my face, I'm kind of tired,” he got to his feet and went over to the door.

“Make sure the old lady dont catch you,” Jason said, with poorly concealed concern, like he always did.

“I was trained by the best, don't worry.” He tried for a smile but he new it came out tighter than he’d hoped.

He walked quickly down the stairs, making sure his footfalls were light. At the foot of the stairs he could see the back of the head of the old lady, Mrs. Mac. She was was backlit by the television, which was playing commercials at the moment.

To his right he could faintly hear the sound of Tims voice, probably murmuring into the phone receiver.

He was suddenly aware that the layout of this house was so similar to that other one. Kitchen on his left, living room on his right. For a split second he could imagine the furniture overturned and Tim laying on the kitchen floor—

He shook his head violently to rid himself from these thoughts. They weren't real. 

He walked down the hall, parallel to the stairs, careful to not be heard. He only allowed himself to exhale until the bathroom door was closed behind him.

Dick fumbled with the light switch and went over to the sink. The light took a second to actually turn on, blinking a few times with the effort. He splashed some water on his face, immediately feeling grounded by the cold. He looked at his reflection.

It was just him.

There was no blood spattering his face. Just him looking back miserably, his hair still damp from the rain and water dripping from his chin. The hands that gripped each side of the sink weren't shaking.

He was okay. They were going to be okay.

He already felt better.

He turned the faucet and bent over to get a quick drink of water. He felt the cool water go down and his heart finally slowed. He shut the water off and ran the back of his sleeve over his mouth.

When he looked back at his reflection, something else looked back. He immediately tensed. He didn't have a chance to look to closely before it, or rather the boy in that familiar mask, reached a hand to the side, the cape that shrouded him opening in a flutter.

“Time to reconsider,” he said, and the light went out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Man, with this chapter that makes 50k, thats the most words ive ever written for anything not academic. Whod have thought. But I can see the end in the horizon !! If I squint. Thank you so far for all of your comments and stuff, much appreciated !
> 
> A little down time for our boys in this and next chapter, for a much needed break from all that training and running around theyve been doing.   
> Next up: More Damian, hes so mysterious. But... I wonder how our other boys are holding up ?


	15. Chapter 15

Jason watched the door as it closed after Dick, wondering what the big deal was. He couldn't even begin to imagine what it was that had bothered him about their conversation. Then again, they had been talking about a crime they had basically committed. 

As far as he could tell, Dick was more concerned with morals where Tim was more concerned with law. Jason couldn’t care either way, in the end it was all about survival. In his book, if there was something to be done it would be done, whatever it took.

So maybe it had bothered Dick. Maybe the reality of what they were doing had suddenly dawned on him. Jason had known from the start what they’d had to do, but Dick had apparently pushed the thought away until the last minute.

Jason wasn’t too worried about that though. He’d seen the resilience in Dick whenever they trained, the way he always got back up. And if instead he decided to back out, that’d be his right. There was no point in pursuing something you didn’t believe in.

What did give him pause was the way he’d recoiled from his touch. That had never happened before. It was as if he’d been burned. 

For someone who was nosy about others well being, Dick shut like a clam whenever anyone asked about his. Not his physical well-being though, he followed Jason’s advice to the letter whenever they got a bit hurt, and he was better than both him—and even more so than Tim—at knowing the limits of his own body.

But whenever they asked how he was  _ doing _ , how he felt… Jason could tell he held back. He didn’t know if it was for their sakes or his own, so he was at a loss of what to do about it. That had never been his forte.

So he wasn’t going to ask. Jason was gonna give him this space if that’s what he needed, and if he’d wanted to talk about it then eventually he would spill the beans.

However, if they started to hesitate even in the slightest they’d be killed. He always thought that if anyone were to give out it’d be Tim. But he had been wrong twice in the same day, he supposed.

At that moment Tim came back in, this time holding refreshments. He glanced at Jason curiously, “Where’s Dick?” he asked, moving towards his desk to put the drinks with the rest of the snacks.

“Bathroom.” Jason cupped his hands and Tim tossed him a can of soda.

“Oh.” He cracked open his own can and took a small sip. “Is he okay?”

Jason shrugged. He didn’t know what was going on with Dick, and Tim here had confessed to lacking tact about these things as well, so he wasn’t going to plant a seed of curiosity in his head when Dick probably needed space.

Tim sat back in his chair, rubbing at the side of his neck. “I’m sorry about Mrs. Mac. She’s never come without prior notice.”

“Any chance your parents show up too? Make it a real party?” Jason joked.

“I wouldn’t worry about it,” Tim waved him off, turning his seat to face the desk and away from him. He turned on the desk lamp and reached a hand towards the pile of books on his right. He paused for a moment before turning sideways to look back at Jason. “Sorry, I was planning to do homework downstairs while you guys slept here but, yknow, she’ll wonder why I’m not using my room.”

“It’s your house,” Jason reminded him.

“I’ll be quiet,” Tim promised, before turning back to his books.

Jason watched Tim back, idly sipping his drink. He was working quietly, like with everything he did. If Jason focused he could hear the faint scratching of a pen on paper and the occasional flip of a page. The rain had slowed to a light drizzle, and the drops tapped the window rhythmically. 

It was all oddly soothing. Even more so after the evening they’d just had. Jason has been in plenty of street fights before, had to run for the hills more than once. But afterwards he’d simply stew in his own turmoil, licking his wounds like a beaten dog. There were no regrets coming after him. 

It was a terrifying thought, with how freeing it was. He’d never experienced something quite like it.

He opened his eyes, not realizing when exactly it was that he’d closed them. There was still the rain and Tim at his desk. But the bedroom fixture was now off, the desk lamp and the window being now the only sources of light.

He supposed Tim had turned it off at some point, thinking he’d fallen asleep. But he couldn’t let himself do so before making sure Dick was alright.

In order to stay awake he got to his feet, not missing the way Tim straightened up slightly. He approached him and looked over his shoulder.

He had two books open in front of him, one of which seemed to be a novel he recognized.

“Lord of the Flies,” Jason noted.

Tim glanced up at him, his eyebrows raised. “Yes, I have to write my opinion on a few chapters. I usually would have finished reading it by now but it snuck up on me.”

Jason leaned his hip on the table, still reading a bit of the book. He’d never seen one in such pristine condition, he didn’t even need to squint to make out words with their ink washed away. “You know, if you had things to do you could have said so. We woulda postponed the thing.”

“I’m on top of it, it’s fine. I just need to chip away at it so it doesn’t pile up.”

“Need any help?” Jason offered.

“With what?” Tim frowned, then looked up at Jason with raised eyebrows. “You?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing!” Tim held up his hands. “Nothing, just, didn’t think you’d be interested in this sort of thing. It’s very boring.”

“I disagree, scoot over,” he told Tim, sitting next to him in the chair after he moved slightly to the side. “I like homework.”

He picked up a pen on his left hand and the notebook Tim had open under his book. He flipped to the back of the notebook to start writing.

Tim watched him write for a few minutes, as he painstakingly put down his opinion on the chapter Tim was currently reading.

“I had no idea you went to school too,” he said, though it was obviously a question.

“I don’t,” Jason replied. “Dropped out.”

“Oh.”

“Didn’t have the time for it anymore. Had more important things to do.”

“I feel like that sometimes too…”

Jason stopped writing to glance at Tim, who blushed immediately. “Sorry! That was insensitive of me. Obviously our… our situations are incredibly different. I didn’t mean to…”

“No, you got me curious now. What do you mean?”

Tim's eyes widened and he averted his gaze, turning his face away from Jason. He thought that he would drop the subject but then he said, “It’s just, I feel like there’s so much else I could be doing. All day every day I’m just like everyone else, I’m who I think my parents want me to be but…”

“Can’t help wanting more?”

“I can’t help being greedy,” he corrected. He crossed his arms over the table and lowered his head to rest on them. “At night when I follow Him, I just… feel like there’s more to me. I know it’s not something that can last but,” Jason watched Tim’s hands tighten their grin on his upper arms, “I want to hold onto it.”

Jason knew what he meant. He had experienced something like it just a few minutes ago. That fleeting sensation of peace, that feeling that, if he were to die he’d do so knowing he gave it his all. And he also knew that if was a feeling that wouldn’t, couldn’t last.

It just wasn’t realistic.

“You have the benefit of being able to choose, don’t squander it by setting it in stone so early in the game,” he advised. And then, more to himself than Tim he muttered, “Some of us don’t get that chance.”

Tim raised his head and smiled at Jason, though there was a tightness in his eyes. Tim took a deep breath, closing his eyes as if to steel himself. When he opened them, his eyes were bright and inquisitive, the same eyes he got when they ran on rooftops.

He didn’t know what had just gone through his head with this sudden change. It seemed less like gaining resolution with Jason’s words and more like he’d decided not to talk about it anymore.

“Jason, can I ask you a question?” He said, but didn’t give him the chance to answer. “Why do you have a gun?”

The question made all his thoughts screech to a halt. His mind had gone blank, but Tim was looking at him with sharp, hungry eyes. Like only the truth would satisfy it and he wouldn’t let up until then.

“What do you mean?” Jason asked, choosing to feign ignorance.

“Don’t play coy, or do you want me to show it to you to refresh your memory?” He glanced to the side and Jason didn’t have to follow his eyes to know they were looking at that place under the bed where he usually stashed it.

“How did you know? Since when?” Jason said, giving up on fooling around. There was no hiding it anymore.

“First night you stayed here. I came up to look for something while you were asleep. Did you think you could hide something like that from me in my own room?”

He’d been a fool to think so, but he wasn’t about to admit it. Instead he went to the point, “What are you gonna do about it?”

Tim blinked at him. “Nothing. I just want to understand.”

Jason frowned. 

Tim sighed, looking suddenly worse for wear. He rubbed at his neck while he thought about his next words. “That man… back in the house,” Jason suddenly knew what this was about, “you killed him.”

Tim paused, giving Jason the opportunity to say something, maybe defend himself, but Jason didn’t reply to this accusation. 

“When I walked into that room, he wasn’t moving anymore, yet... you were still kicking him. You must have known he was already out, his blood was on your shoes. Why?”

He couldn’t say why. He didn’t know why. That man had tried to kill him, he had simply defended himself, he told Tim as much. But he knew deep down, that wasn’t what Tim was asking.

Predictably Tim shook his head. “You didn’t have to kill him to defend yourself. You didn’t have to keep kicking him.”

“Who’s to say.” He didn’t want to be interrogated anymore. “You gonna tell on me? Gonna kick me out?” He growled, he didn’t know why he was getting so angry. It didn’t help how close they were sitting, how calm Tim’s face was.

“I told you I won’t do anything.”

“Why not?!” Jason got up, putting distance between each other. “I killed someone. I killed him and I made sure he didn’t get back up. I admit that, but I bet it scares you and you’re just pretending that it doesn’t. Just come out and say it.” 

“I... I am.” Tim said, his voice trembling, but before Jason could say anything else he continued, “We were so close, Jason. I was… I almost… If it hadn’t been for Dick, I…” Tim clenched his fists as he shuddered. “I was naive, I went into that house still carrying uncertainty. But you,” his eyes flickered towards the bed, the gun, “you’re so sure. I just want to understand.”

“There’s nothing for you to understand. You said it yourself, our circumstances are completely different.”

Tim looked at him for a moment, as if willing him to change his mind. But eventually he sighed and got to his feet. “That’s… alright. I’ll um, I’ll go check up on Dick. He’s taking a while.”

“Right.”

As Tim moved past him to reach for the door he paused and said “I’ll keep it a secret, you don’t have to worry about that.” Then he left.

Jason hadn’t realized he’d  _ been _ worried about it, until he’d been reassured not to be. He looked back at the bed, and figured he had much to think about.

* * *

Dick gasped, turning on his heel and pressing himself against the sink. His eyes flickered from one corner of the room to the other, trying to find the figure he’d seen. “Wha-What do you want?” he asked, his heart hammering in his chest. “I’ll scream, don't think I won't.”

“Then by all means,” came a whisper to his left, making Dick recoil violently. On his attempt to scurry away, he slipped on a bathroom mat on the floor. His arms flailed, trying to catch himself on the curtain he knew was nearby. Instead, a hand grasped his arm and pulled him back up. “But, I’m not the only one hiding in here,” the other boy finished, and he could see his eyes now, shining eerily in the darkness. “I could leave before anyone got here, can you say the same?”

Dick didn't answer, instead he blindly looked towards his arm. He could feel more than see that the hand holding him in place wasn't bare, he caught a glimpse of the gloves he wore before. Pointed claws at the end of each finger dug into his skin, but they didn't pierce it.

The other boy, as if able to read his mind ( _ could he? _ ) let go of his arm. “I’m not going to hurt you,” he said condescendingly, as if Dick was an idiot for even thinking about it.

This angered Dick and he gathered all the courage in him to stand up to this boy he couldn't even see. “Why are you here, Herald?”

The shining eyes seemed to flicker for a split second, as if blinking. “Herald?” He said, as if the word was entirely foreign to him. “Why do you keep calling me this?”

Now it was Dicks turn to blink, “Thats your name? You called yourself a Herald, you never corrected me.”

“Do you read so much into everything that happens around you? Not everything people say have deep meanings,” he sounded almost amused but his levity died with his next words. “I have no name.”

“You don't have a name?” Dick couldn't help but feel bad for him. “That's so sad, I’m so sorry.”

“What? No, you dolt!” It was the first time Dick had heard the boy get frustrated, as he was usually cold and sharp. “I mean an alias.”

“Oh,” Dick understood now why he was so agitated, “your hero name.”

“I told you, I'm not a hero.” The boy cut through his words, and though they were speaking quietly his voice was clear. 

Dick swallowed. “But then, why did you save me?”

The room became quiet, the sounds from the television in the living room coming in muffled through the door. Dicks eyes had slowly adjusted to the darkness and now Dick could make out the rough edges of this boy. His stance was different from the other times, this time he seemed more uncertain, shifting from one foot to the other. The rest of him was cloaked in his cape but his figure was hunched and guarded.

Dick thought maybe this boy was afraid of him. But that was silly. He had killed a man, this one boy, and probably many others. But there was something odd about him.

“I told you,” the boy began, “that I didn't care if you got broken. I'll gather as many pieces left of you as I can, but you're no use for me dead.”

And wasn't that a merry thought?

“Why?” is all he could think to ask. Why him? Why then? Just why?”

“Why I didn't let you die?” He scoffed. “Believe me, I don’t care what you do with your life after I take you back.”

“But…” It was hard to think about it again, but he needed to know. Dick clenched his fists to keep them from shaking. “You killed that man,” he accused.

He could see the boys face part with a malicious grin. “Oh, I see where the confusion is now, I apologize. Let me clarify it for you.” He took a step forward  and Dick took one backwards instinctively and felt the edge of the bathtub behind him. This seemed to amuse the boy, who simply took another step and rested a gloved hand on Dicks shoulder. “ _ I _ didn’t kill that man,” he pulled Dick slightly forward and looked at him in his eyes, “you did.”

“What?” Dick slapped the hand away from his shoulder, looking at him in horror. The boy seemed unbothered by his distress, simply opening the space between them again. “I didn't kill him, you did! The knife—“

The boy put a finger to his mouth and turned towards the door. Dick reluctantly followed his gaze and saw the shadow of a person passing through on the other side. After a moment the boy gestured at him, “You were saying?”

“That you killed a man and you're blaming me for it? I think I got my point across pretty succinctly!” Dick hissed.

“You killed that man from the moment you made me get involved.” He sounded angry, like he wasn't happy about it either. “Running in, ill prepared for what was coming at you. He was going to kill you, I simply exchanged your life with his.”

“I didn’t ask you to.”

“You didn’t have to ask, I’ll do anything to keep you alive. But that man’s blood isn’t in my hands,  _ Grayson _ .” Dicks heart almost stopped at the mention of his last name. “So perhaps think twice before jumping into a situation you can’t control.”

Dick was frustrated because this entire situation was already spinning out of his control. “Then help me. If you're so good, help us get better, and then you won’t have to kill anyone.”

The boy scoffed. “And what makes you think I want to help you?”

“You saved me,” he asked confused.

“I have no moral obligation to you, I simply did what I had to do.” 

“Worst Robin Hood ever.” Dick murmured to himself.

The other boy seemed to catch it and he looked at him almost curiously, “What did you call me?”

Dick sighed, sitting down on the lid of the toilet. “He he was a—“

“I  _ know _ who Robin Hood  _ was _ . Why would you say that?”

Dick rubbed at his forehead, feeling a headache coming. “You stole someone else’s life for mine. And I can never repay you back.”

“But you can.” He took a step forward, but this time he respected the space between them. “You can come with me and all of this will be over. No one will die, your little friends wont be in danger and I—“ he hesitated. “Everyone wins.”

Dick shook his head. “You already killed one person, thats too much. I dont want to owe you for this but I also don't want to thank you for it.”

There was a light knock on the door before he heard Tim whisper through the closed door. “Dick? You alright?”

“Then go on with them and let your bill get taller, Little John. But know that I hmgave you a choice. I… am not the villain.” After saying this, he jumped up and squeezed out of the small bathroom window, leaving no trace that he'd even been there.

There was another knock on the door as Tim called his name. Dick took a deep breath and went to open it, his thoughts murky as ever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think these boys are getting cabin fever, if you think about it ... Next Up!


	16. Chapter 16

When Tim returned to his room with Dick in tow he couldn't help but notice the clear drop in the mood. 

He hadn't thought much about Dick being especially quiet in their way back, since they were both trying to prevent being found out by Mrs. Mac. But even now, in the safe haven of his room he hadn't said a word, instead walking straight to the window and looking out towards the cloudy night sky. 

He felt a tug in his chest as in his mind the image reminded him of a caged bird, and he'd never would have imagined his own room would become a prison. It was the complete opposite of what he, or rather, they wanted to achieve. 

He realized he'd been idle in front of the door for too long, but he needed to think, so he went over to his desk and opened his book to pretend he was reading. The other two weren't paying attention to him, but he still let them know he'd be doing some homework.

Dick believed they could still make it, and it was true, the night hadn’t been a complete failure. They were still alive, for one, but that hadn't been the objective. He had no idea how Dicks fight had fared, but Jason had ended up resorting to extreme measures and Tim had almost… almost…

His throat seized for a moment causing him to cough. He ghosted his fingers over his throat, feeling where he imagined the mark of a hand was still wrapped around it. He had almost blacked out, if it hadn't been for Dick, he probably would have lost consciousness. He didn't dare think anything worse.

With a shake of his head he forced his thoughts to move away from that moment. It was already in the past, all it would be useful for now was to prevent it from happening again. Speaking of which…

He turned slightly to look over his shoulder. Jason had moved back to the bed, all interest in Tim’s homework probably lost after their discussion. He was laying on his back with his legs crossed, he seemed relaxed, without a care in the world. Like Tim hadn't just accused him of killing a man that had been already down, of concealing a gun to maybe do it again.

He averted his eyes quickly as to not be caught staring. He knew about the gun but he couldn't be certain that Jason did indeed bring it with him in their outings. In fact, he was almost sure of the opposite. If he had, the man would not have been beaten to death. There was a reason he had brought it with him, but the reason wasn't to shoot random thugs on the street, so for the moment he couldn't condemn him.

Biting his lip, he realized he would have trouble condemning him even then, and that wasn't something he wanted to delve into just for now.

He needed to be better.  It was obvious to him that he was the weakest link. If he had been better he wouldn't have needed saving, if he hadn't been weak he could have helped Jason the way Dick did for him. Maybe he would have stopped him in time. Maybe Jason had simply felt he did not have a choice, and if Tim hadn't been busy getting the life choked out of him...

And they couldn't remain idle, they needed to keep moving forward. Every moment they wasted being aimless would make it that much harder to keep going. They had been training for too long and reality had snuck up on them. They didn't just need to get better, but they needed a reminder of why they were doing it.

Looking at Dick lost in his own reflection in the window pane made him think that maybe he was the one that needed it the most.

“Dick,” he said softly, and Dick roused as if he'd been asleep on his feet. He turned to look at Tim confused as if he didnt know where he was.

“Did you say something?”

He wanted to ask if he was alright, if he was sure. But there was a part of him that knew these words would simply add weight to the pressure they were already in. He didn't want to receive empty reassurances or show hollow concern, so instead he chose to be direct. “Do you want to go to the circus?”

Dicks eyes widened in surprise. Tim didn't miss the way Jason's head tilted slightly towards them probably to listen better. “Haly’s?”

“Yeah.”

“Always... It's why we do this,” he smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes, “so that I can return to the circus someday, right?”

“I know. But if you could go, right now. Would you?”

Dick frowned at the line of questioning. “Of course. But I can't, that's the point?” he said, almost uncertain of his own words. 

Tim had already known that would be the answer, but he couldn't help the sadness that washed over him at the confirmation that he was the one keeping him prisoner. Like a kidnapper pretending to be his friend. But he couldn’t let his inner turmoil show, there was no point in that, so instead he tried on a smile. “Yeah,  _ you _ can't.”

Jason had sat up and was looking at Tim with piercing eyes, as if he'd already caught up on what Tim was saying, and didn't like it.

“I don't follow.”

“You know, the funniest thing happened a while back…” he said, rolling his chair to properly face Dick. He put a hand in his chin and looked up, as if trying to recall the exact story. “The waitress at the dinner found my wallet. She hadn't thought much about it because she had served someone that looked kind of like me…”

Dicks brow was deeply furrowed in confusion, trying to put the pieces together, he didn't blame him as it had been weeks ago. Meanwhile, Jason was already raising his objections. “Buffy wouldn't be able to distinguish her right hand from her left, you're giving her too much credit.”

“I don't know, she seemed pretty smart to me.”

“She's got a screw loose. ‘Sides, you two look nothing alike. Drop it, this was your idea.”

“Oh!” Dick said, as realization dawned on him, but he went ignored as Tim and Jason continued arguing.

“I know it was my idea, but this is also my idea, if we follow one I don't see the harm of following the other.”

“You said if someone gets a hold of him he's toast, you wanna throw all our effort into the garbage? Be my guest, but remember I told you so.”

“Lower your voice. And I know what I said, I stand by it. But that only applies to Dick Grayson, not Tim Drake.”

“I think—“

“Look at him. Look at him and tell me he looks like you with a straight face,” Jason hissed. “He’s at least five shades over, for starters.”

“ _ We _ know that, but I think we could—“

“Jason’s right.” Dick finally managed to cut in, the other two boys finally turned towards him. 

Jason looked smug, he raised an eyebrow and gave Tim a look that said: “Well, there you have it.” 

Tim ignored him to focus on the other boy. “But Dick—“ he began, then stopped as Dick raised a hand and shook his head.

“I appreciate what you’re doing, but I don’t think it would be smart. I don’t want to jeopardize what we’ve worked so hard for.” He smiles sadly at Tim then averted his eyes back to the window. “We gotta focus on training more, we can’t let what happened today happen again.”

Tim knew he was right, but these words simply hammered in more guilt into his heavy heart. He wanted to help him so badly, and every day he couldn’t return to his family was another day he had failed to do so.

He tried again, softly this time, “But… Dick, what if it does?” Dick didn’t turn to him, instead twisting his body further away, hugging his arms. “Every time we go out, there will be a chance for it to happen again.”

“Then we make sure it doesn’t!” Dick snapped, his eyes sharp like daggers cutting into Tim’s own.

He was surprised by the outburst but he could see Dick already regretting it, digging the palm of his hand into his eye.

“I know,” he glanced briefly at Jason and found him quiet, none of his previous objections present as he watched Dick intently. “I know that better than anyone. I know that I’m weak and I don’t want to bring you all down with me.” 

Dicks expression had changed to one akin to pity and Tim hated how it looked on his face, towards him.“Tim, you’re not—“

“I’m not about to give up simply because I’m weak though. As you said, we have to keep training. I know all of this, but I also know training can only get us so far. We can’t predict everything that’ll come at us. Three tugs alone made sure that we knew this, I can’t even begin to imagine what’ll happen when we go against Black Mask.”

Tim wasn’t saying anything alien to them, judging by their silence he knew this was on their minds as well, the big picture hadn’t escaped them yet. This was a good thing.

“I believe in us as much as you do, but all it would take is one mistake and one of us might not make it, none of might make it.”

“What’s your point? We give up?” Jason asked.

Tim shook his head. “It’s too late to give up, your best chance of survival is probably to keep going. But I can’t help but have one regret,”

They looked at him expectantly and he took a deep breath to prepare to get the words out, even if his throat tightened slightly with the action. “If something were to happen to you Dick, I’m afraid that you never got to say goodbye to your family.”

Dick gasped quietly. “It’s… it’s alright…” Dick tried to reassure him, but his words didn’t have any conviction.

“I took that away from you back then, because I didn’t understand how you felt. I was too caught up in what might happen that I didn’t spare a thought for what might not. I don’t want to make that mistake again, I...” He could feel tears welling up in his eyes and his chest tightening; but he didn’t feel sad exactly, he was simply desperate to get Dick to understand, see as he saw. “The circus is so precious to you, I don’t want your last memory of it to be a bad one.” 

Suddenly Dick was there, kneeling in front of him, with his arms wrapped around his shoulders tightly. Tim was caught by surprise and didn’t know what to do.

“I’m sorry, Tim. I’m sorry.” Dick murmured.

Tim tried to dry the tears falling from his eyes but couldn’t quite reach. “What are you sorry for…?”

Dick released him from the embrace but still kept his hands on his shoulders, “It looks like this has been on your mind for a long time, I hadn’t realized...”

“It’s okay.”

Dick bit his lip and seemed uncertain, “I appreciate it a lot, and I never blamed you for that, you were trying to protect me. Still, I don’t think…”

“Why not?” Jason spoke up. He was looking away from them nonchalantly, as if the rest of the room had suddenly become more interesting.

“What? You agreed that—“

“Kid’s clearly thought about this a lot, least you could do is give it a thought too.” Tim caught Jason’s eye and he could swear he gave him a diminutive nod.

When Dick turned to look back at him, Tim offered him an honest smile, pleading for him to consider it.

“Alright, I’ll think about it.” Dick sighed, but despite that his spirits seemed to be higher than they had been before. He got up and dusted his knees. “We’ll talk about it later, but for now let’s get some sleep, we had a long day.” He said walking over to the bed and pushing Jason aside, though without force. “Don’t snore this time, we might get caught.”

“Yeah, well don’t kick me in your sleep and then we’ll see.” Jason said pushing back.

The two of them devolved into complex looking wrestling locks on top of Tim’s bed, and Tim was glad everything felt like normal now. He didn’t have the energy to join their jostling so he excused himself out of the room to take back their used dishes to the kitchen.

He found Mrs. Mac hanging up on the phone and he tried not to look too suspicious placing so many dishes in the dishwasher.

“I was just about to get you,” she said, her hands resting on her hips, she seemed just about ready to give Tim a lecture, but then again she always looked like that.

Tim closed the door of the dishwasher and tried to act natural. “What is it Mrs. Mac?” He said, grabbing one of the fake fruit in the kitchen counter to contain his fidgeting.

She paused to look at his face, but if she saw anything out of the ordinary she didn’t mention it. “Your father called,” she said instead, and Tim almost fumbled the faux apple with surprise.

“O-Oh? What’s he say?”

“He’s coming over tomorrow,” she said and went over to where a duster had been abandoned and went about her business. 

Tim did drop the apple this time, and only had half a mind to put it back in its place before following Mrs. Mac around the house as she cleaned. “They’re coming back?”

“ _ He _ is coming back. Says he wanted to see you.”

“What about my mom?”

“I didn’t ask.”

“How long is he staying? Did he tell you?”

“Ask him yourself, you’re to be ready to go out at noon.” She turned around and pointed at him with the duster. “And none of this weird fashion, young man. I mean it!”

“Okay, Mrs. M.”

She bonked him in the head with the feathers and left to continue cleaning.

Tim was rooted in place, he hadn’t expected to see his parents back so soon! He wondered if they had found anything, probably not though, they usually spent even more time away when they did. 

And it was the first time one would come without the other, maybe his dad wanted to speak privately with him about something. Tim wondered what his dad might need from him.

He figured he should let the other two know about this. It didn’t throw a wrench in their plans per se, as his dad would probably just come and go, but they needed to take proper precautions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The third part of their crime bust post mortem is here! I didn’t think it’d take three entire parts to go over something like this but hey, talking about your feelings is very important.
> 
> Next up... Reunions?


	17. INTERMISSION

The arrival of his father couldn't have come at a more inopportune, yet convenient, time. It ensured that they took a small break from their night activities—without feeling like they were stalling—and it would also give Dick the space to visit his own family. It was just a shame that Tim wouldn't be there to see it happen, though that was just as well.

“Are you sure this is going to work?” Dick mumbled, glancing up at him. He was sitting in Tim’s desk chair, doing his best not to move.

Tim repositioned Dicks head for the 7th time and continued trying to comb his hair. “Sure I’m sure.” Dicks hair was a bit shorter than Tims, specially in the back, and it was also curlier, but it was nothing a bit of gel didn’t fix. Hair gel was amazing like that.

He parted Dicks hair down the middle, glaring at the small hair whorl that was obnoxiously fighting back, but he eventually won the war. He stepped back to admire his work. 

Dick looked, if not like Tim’s own twin, like a slightly older brother of his at the very least. Sure his skin tone and general face shape were completely different, but the way his hair now framed his face made him a tiny bit more unrecognizable. 

They usually borrowed his clothes (as he had so many) but they always kept some sense of their own styles. This time, though Dicks jeans were  _ not _ ripped in any place as he usually liked, the sleeves of the American Idiot t-shirt he sported were gone. Revealing a different, red sleeved shirt underneath. This look was closer to the style Tim usually wore to his Wizard and Warriors sessions.

With a nod, Tim rotated Dick around, seat and all, and said “What do you think?”

Jason, who had been engrossed in reading a comic book finally looked up. His eyes flitted around, taking in all the details; even doing as much as glancing up at Tim sometimes, probably for comparison . Tim could see Dick begin to squirm under his gaze, but Jason threw the comic book to the side and said “I guess,” with a shrug.

Dick got up and went over to the standing mirror. He inspected himself for a few moments, and though he didn't look very convinced he didn't argue. Instead he turned to look at Tim. “I knew I was going to borrow your face for this but I didn't know you'd have to buy a new one.” He pointed at Tim with his chin, “What's with the gettup, James Bond?”

Tim looked down at his own clothes, subconsciously running a hand over his dress shirt to smooth it out. He was wearing a white dress shirt, some black pants, and some slip-on black leather shoes; he’d forgoed the jacket for the moment, leaving the suspenders visible; all in all it was a simple look. Here among Jason and Dick he felt extremely overdressed, but in reality he knew it was the bare minimum. He'd been embarrassed to even think of wearing his more expensive suits in front of them, so he was going to take his chances with this alone.

“Im meeting my dad for lunch at some fancy restaurant, they have a  _ dress code _ ,” he rolled his eyes.

“He’s not coming here?”

“I’m sure it’s probably for convenience, maybe the trip from the airport to here and then to the restaurant is way longer than just meeting up. He’ll probably come back with me,” he said, with the irrational need to defend his father.

Dick and Jason seemed to accept that explanation and moved towards the window.

“Ah, wait!” Tim said, moving up to his desk and taking out a box. He pulled out a medical face mask and went over to put it on Dicks face, “Just to be on the safe side.”

He couldn't see if Dick was smiling but his eyes let go of some of the tightness around them. “Thank you,” he said, squeezing Tim’s wrist before he retrieved his hands.

Without wasting another moment, Dick and Jason slipped out of the room through the window, climbing down using the bricks in the wall. Soon, they were gone as they reached the street and rounded a corner.

Tim sighed and closed the window, making sure to lock it. There was no chance of them showing up and trying to come in, as they thought his father would be home. But Tim knew they didn't need to worry about that.

The restaurant his dad had invited him to,  _ La Ritournelle _ , was in the bottom floor of the Grand Gotham Hotel. It wasn't rare for them to eat at some hotel‘s restaurant, but that one was very exclusive to its clients. Figuring out his dad was probably going to stay there—and would therefore not be around for long—was as simple as putting two and two together.

He was still incredibly curious about this visit, with how uncharacteristic it was. So when Mrs. Mac announced his ride had arrived he didn't wait another second.

 

The hotel was as swanky as he had expected, and he suddenly felt extremely underdressed, as Mrs. Mac had been keen to point out over and over again in the car.

She accompanied him all the way to the entrance, where she was discussing his reservation with the Hostess, while Tim looked around. He could count as many as 8 completely different chandeliers. 

Mrs. Mac grabbed his attention and brushed off some invisible dust in his jacket, tightening his tie and brushing his hair away from his face. All while muttering advice that he'd heard a million times over. “Behave yourself, Timothy,” and “Don't eat like you’ve never seen food in your life,” and “Listen to your father.”

He rolled his eyes, barely resisting the urge to bat Mrs. Macs hands away. He caught the eye of the Hostess who gave him a sympathetic look. “I'll lead you to your table,” she said, and Tim felt incredibly grateful. He waved Mrs. Mac goodbye and followed the other woman, who expertly weaved around the tables. Tim always wondered how they knew which table was which, since they weren’t numbered, he made a note to look it up later.

He thanked the hostess and sat at the table, waiting for his father or their assigned waiter, whichever came first, though Tim didn't have to guess.

One soda and a half later, his father finally arrived, holding a paper bag in one hand. He seemed restless for some reason, but he still nodded his thanks to the Hostess before sitting across from Tim. For the first time he noticed there were three seats at the table, and it only helped accent his mom’s absence. 

Tim did his best to ignore this though. “Hey dad,” Tim greeted, smiling at his father.

“Good to see you, champ,” Jack said, reaching over the table to clap his hand on Tims shoulder briefly. “How school treating you?”

He wished they would just get to the point of their meeting, as his curiosity simply grew with each passing minute, but he knew there was a protocol to these things. “I’m doing good,” he lied, his grades weren’t bad, but they had taken a bit of a fall ever since they ramped up their ‘night activities’. 

He found he didn't have anything else to add to that statement that wouldn’t be an outright lie. He had quit badminton so he couldn't say he'd played in any games; same thing with the broadcasting club, not that his dad had ever been interested in stories about that one. He hadn't even hung out with Ives and the others in weeks and hadn’t had time to check the TV for any cool superhero appearances. He hadn't figured how time consuming crime fighting was.

Realizing there had been an awkward lull in the conversation, Tim quickly turned the question around. “How's the dig? Find anything cool?”

“Eh, its slow going,” he said, looking around the room at the other tables where people were engrossed in their own conversations. “If it were for me we would have moved on to the next thing.” He said, his words dripping resentment.

“Mom always says patience always pays.”

Jack glanced at him, his eyebrows furrowing slightly. “You're every bit your moms kid aren’t you,” he muttered. Tim thought that was an odd thing to say, but didnt think it deserved further prying, especially as his dad changed the topic. “Brought you something,” he said, his mood shifting completely as he smiled at Tim. 

He brought up the bag he'd been holding onto and handed it over to Tim. Tim tried his best to hide his excitement as he took it. “Thank you,” he said sincerely.  _ This is it,  _ he thought,  _ this is what its about! _ He held onto it for a few moments before asking, “Can I open it?”

Jack gestured for him to go ahead and Tim immediately opened the bag. Inside was a box. He slipped it out carefully and inspected it. He felt the smile on his face freeze as he read and reread the label on it “Oh! Its a… model plane!” he said, noticing his father's expectant look.

“Yes! See, this is actually pretty cool,” he said, holding his hand out to take the box and he began to explain all the cool features that were clearly printed on the box.

“Cool,” Tim parroted, his mind elsewhere as Jack continued talking about the gift. 

For Tim this wasn't just a cool plane. It was  _ another _ plane. One strikingly similar to another he had put away somewhere in his closet two birthdays ago. A toy plane he  _ knew _ was only sale at the airport. It just didn't get any more last minute than this.

So this clearly wasn't the reason why they had met up, it was merely an afterthought, a preamble. Tim inspected his father, his eyes wandering even as he went on and on about the marvel of model toys. He wanted something from Tim and was trying to appease him with this, though it wasn’t necessary. He was nervous about something and Tim wouldn‘t be able to figure it out until he told him.  _ Bad news? _ he thought, it was possible.

“Ah!” His father suddenly exclaimed, getting to his feet. Tim blinked out of his thoughts, as he noticed the Hostess approach their table again, she motioned to their table and stepped aside to reveal a woman behind her.

“Tim, I want you to meet Dana Winters,” Jack said, “This is my son, Tim.”

“Hi,” he got to his feet and shook Danas hand. She was beautiful, her hair silky and black, she had the air of a supermodel. But she had a pleasant smile and a firm grip, so he didn't know what to make of Dana. She didn't seem like the type of person his parents were used to introduce him to.

“Nice to meet you,” she said, tucking her hair behind her ear. She thanked Jack as he held out her seat for her and they all sat back down.

The waiter finally approached the table again, and Jack took one glance at the menu and immediately gave it back. “Bring us some of your best wine and the Lobster course for me,” he turned to Dana, “Is the salad alright with you?”

Dana seemed to want to disagree but simply said “Sure.”

“Of course, sir,” the waiter nodded. “And for the young man?”

Jack turned to Tim with surprise, as if he had completely forgotten.

“I'll have the salad too,” then held up his half empty glass of soda, “and some more of this, please.”

“Very well, sir.” 

As the waiter retreated, Dana turned to Jack. “Thank you for inviting me tonight, it is very lovely.”

“Of course, of course! Anything for you!” Jack said, and Tim couldn't stop looking at the way their hands overlapped each other, he found it… curious.

Dana caught Tim staring and quickly removed her hand, her already bright cheeks getting brighter. “Your dad has told me a lot about you.”

“Im… sorry, I can't say the same.” Tim glanced at his dad.

“Dana and I met a year ago, she’s a physiotherapist. Remember when Mrs. McIlvaine was complaining about back pain?”

“Oh!” he exclaimed. Of course he remembered, they had cycled through several other people to help keep an eye on him when Mrs. Mac had been unavailable. Getting used to their patterns and gaining their trust to be able to stalk the dark knight had been a real challenge.

“We’ve been in contact ever since.” 

Again, their hands found each other and the question was on the tip of his tongue, but he couldn't make himself ask. He was confused, and upset. The model plane now rested on the table, like an accusation. What was it that his father wanted to buy with it, and why did he think that was the cost? 

“Thank you for helping Mrs. Mac, she's my moms favorite.” He hadn't meant to give away his rising frustration, but some of it slipped in the coldness of his tone. Danas brow furrowed and she looked at Jack for help, but if he noticed Tims mood souring he didn't show it.

“Ah, here's the food!” Jack announced, with the arrival of several waiters walking over with trays of food.

Once everyone's dishes were presented and glasses were filled, the waiter bowed slightly and left them to enjoy their food. The table was quiet, with the exception of Jack, who was praising the exquisite food.

Tim moved around his food with a fork, without making any attempt to eat it, even though in any other occasion it would have looked delicious. Instead he watched them both, Jack going on and on about whatever and Dana nodding along and interjecting at times, but she glanced in his direction often. Her eyes flitting between him and his uneaten food.

He felt guilty about his earlier outburst, he hadn't meant to make her feel bad. It wasn't her that Tim was angry with, it just so happened that his father didn’t realize how he felt. He wanted to apologize but that would mean to admit there had been a hidden intent to his words.

_ “I can't read your mind, Timothy,” _ his mom had once said. But she had also been the one to advise him not to speak out of turn. He didn't know what to do, he didn't know what was happening, not for the first time in the past few weeks he felt a bit lost.

“Dad,” he said, and he hated how small his voice sounded. “What's going on?” But his father kept talking animatedly about the wine and the history of the hotel. Tim couldn't blame him for not hearing him though, he needed to speak louder, but he just couldn’t. “Dad,” he tried, and his eyes and throat itched with the effort to get the words out.

“Jack,” Dana said, squeezing Jacks hand still in hers and he finally quieted. They exchanged a look and finally Jack turned to face Tim.

He was serious, all of his mirth gone from his face. Tim tucked away his hands under the table, grasping at his knees to keep his legs from bouncing off. Tim glanced from his father's face to Dana’s, and there was again her reassuring smile that made Tim feel even more confused.

“Tim, there's no easy way to say this, but you're not a little kid anymore, right?” he said reaching over to clamp his hand over Tims shoulder and all he could do was stare at it for a moment. Jack paused for a moment, taking a breath, then said, “Your mom and I are getting a divorce.”

“Oh,” Tim seemed to say, though his own voice sounded far away.

“We tried to make it work. For you, you know?” he explained, “But we really didn’t understand each other. We want different things in life,” Jack retracted his hands and Tim felt himself obligated to return his attention to his face. “She and her stupid research.”

“Jack,” Dana warned softly.

“Nevertheless, I want to be able to be happy too. Don't you think I deserve that?”

Tim realized abruptly that he'd been asked a question. He nodded, of course he did. He wanted both his parents to be happy, it's why he worked so hard and why he never complained of their high expectations. Of course he did.

“I found some of my happiness with Dana, she and I,” they smiled at each other for a moment and he could see it then, it wasn't just empty gestures as they held hands, the entire time they'd been having lunch, he had never seen his dad in such high spirits. “We have something special,” Jack concluded, then turned to look at Tim, his eyes searching. “You aren't mad with me are you? Id hate it if you were, I think you and Dana could really get along.”

Tims throat closed, “No, I…” he  _ had _ been angry, he was still upset. But now he was mad at himself. “I'm not mad…” He had jumped to conclusions and misjudged his father. “It was just a bit surprising.” Once more, he had selfishly ignored someone’s feelings for his own convenience. “I'm happy if you're happy, dad…” he confessed honestly.

But he wondered then, when was it his turn? His turn for someone to understand his own feelings. It never seemed right. Everyone was always feeling things, so then when would it be okay for him to be upset? 

“I knew you’d understand champ.” Jack reached over and ruffled his hair then wrapped an arm around Dana. “Together I think we can be a real family.”

Tim smiled at his dad, though his brows were furrowed. “Sure, dad,” he then excused himself, “Sorry, I have to go to the restroom.”

“Alright, don't take long! Well get some desserts!”

He made his way in the general direction where he thought he'd seen the mens room. His pace just slow enough so it didn't seem like he was rushing. 

There was only one other person in the restroom, another kid, but he ignored him in favor of entering a stall and locking the door. He clamped a hand over his mouth as a sob attempted to escape him. Tremors shook his body and he tried to keep himself together, hugging his middle as he curled forward.

_ What should I do? What am I supposed to do? _ There was nothing to fix, a day ago he hadn’t even thought anything was broken. He wondered if his mom knew, if he should tell her.  _ Of course she knows _ , he thought,  _ why would he tell me first? They never tell me anything first. _

Many more questions flooded his head, like if his mom knew, then since when? Why tell him now? What was going to happen with him? Would he have to move? Who will he live with? 

What did his father mean when he said ‘real family’? What had they been before then? Why did this happen?

He gripped both sides of his head as he willed himself to stop thinking, but he couldn't help it. His father's words came back to him. They had tried  _ for him _ . His dad had been unhappy for so long because of him. What about his mom?

If that was the case what gave him the right to try and stop them now?

There was a knock on the door, but Tim ignored it, his head was spinning in circles, he couldn't stop the itch in his throat as another sob threatened to come out. A stray thought reminded him he needed to go back out, that he'd been in here for too long.

Someone knocked again.

“Occupied.” Tim mumbled with a shaky voice.

“Obviously,” said the person on the other side, still knocking on the door. “You're having a panic attack in there,” he said, as though it wasn't a question.

“I’m not,” Tim said stubbornly, his cheeks heating up with embarrassment.  _ Yes, you are, you're freaking out _ , said a voice in the back of his head, at the same time the person on the other side of the door replied.

“Yes, you are. Stop it. There's no point in worrying this much about anything, it can't possibly be that important.”

“Even if you say that…” Tim muttered, and he wanted to argue with this nosy person, but instead he found himself clinging to the sound of this person's voice, how boyish it sounded. His tone was a bit cutting and harsh but he spoke with an elegant lilt. Carefully pronouncing each word in the way someone who holds what they have to say in great esteem. 

In his head he now tried to picture him, it was probably the boy he'd passed on the way in, but he had no way of knowing. He realized his breathing had calmed, following the rhythm of the knocks.

They were silent for a moment, the only sound coming from the slow knocking. Then, they stopped. 

“Thank you,” Tim said, opening the door, and there was the kid, arms crossed and head held high. His sharp, green eyes boring holes into him, before he simply turned to the exit.

Tim followed him with his eyes and sighed. He couldn't just not worry about these things, but looking back at his reflection in the large wall mirror, he thought about Dick. This was small beans in comparison. There was something bigger than him happening at the moment, he coulndt afford to lose his head now, not when they are so close to achieving their goal. 

He decided he could afford to wait a bit longer before worrying, and maybe then the worries would simply… go away.

He braced himself before exiting the bathroom, and he wondered if they served tiramisu.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for any mistakes, my word processing program quit a million times while i was editing this chapter because it hates Tim just like his father.  
> Damians penchant for meeting the other boys in bathrooms is merely accidental and i just think its funny thats how things worked out.  
> Next up: They always return to the scene of the crime.........


	18. Chapter 18

Gravel crunched under their shoes as they slowly made their way towards the main entrance of the circus. Though it was fairly early in the day, there were already a large number of families in attendance, since it was a weekend. A quick glance towards the designated parking area told him it’d be a bit crowded, but not enough to be uncomfortable.

Dick stopped in his tracks just a few feet before the entrance, just far enough to be able to see the entirety of the circus. Something churned in his gut and he was uncertain if it was longing or dread.

To his left, Jason was looking at him, but his face didn’t give away any sort of judgement. His presence alone was reassuring, at least he was glad not to be doing this alone.

“We can still turn back.” Jason said. It was the first time either of them had spoken since leaving Tim’s house.

Dick shook his head. “No, we’re already here.” He smiled, and though he felt a little nervous he couldn’t help but being a little excited as well. “Let’s enjoy ourselves.”

“Right-o,” Jason saluted.

They approached the ticket booth and suddenly Dick realized this would be the first time he’d be standing on the other side. Not of the ticket booth, as that was manned by Seamus, the bored looking man who Dick knew loved to take care of his mutton chops more than he did anything else. It was the entirety of it, he’d be on the receiving end of his family’s performance for the very first time as far as he remembered.

Seamus noticed them approach and leaned forward in his seat to look at them properly. “Welcome to Haly’s Circus, how may I help you two gentlemen?” 

Dick adjusted the face mask over his nose so it properly covered his face. Jason had offered to take him through the side fence, saying that’s how he and other kids snuck in. Dick hadn’t been very amused by that but he knew it was a common occurrence. 

However, Tim’s plan required them to go through the front entrance. He explained to them it was a sure fire way to test Dicks disguise, while still on the outside. If the man in front—someone who knew Dick as well as anyone else—was unable to recognize him, they'd be good to go. If they just snuck in and got immediately flagged, that’d be a problem.

Dick felt uneasy over the prospect of hiding from his own family but he was willing to do so if it meant keeping everyone safe.

“Two tickets please,” Dick answered, handing over some of the spending money Tim had given them.

“Here you go,” Seamus ripped out two tickets and handed them over, taking Dicks money in the process. “Remember to go to the lottery corner! Some tickets got prizes!”

Dick looked at the red and blue ticket and smiled, handing one over to Jason, who immediately stuffed it in a pocket. “Thank you,” he smiled at Seamus, even though he probably couldn’t see it. 

Seamus smiled back, in that way his eyes thin out and crinkle at the edges. He waved at them as they walked away.

“That went well,” Jason commented, looking over his shoulder at Seamus, then turning to Dick with a raised eyebrow. “Think he recognize you?”

Dick shook his head. “He would have said something.”

“Gotcha.” 

Passing the entrance barrier, they stopped and took in the colorful sight before them. Dick hadn’t realized just how many stalls there really were. Food and games and performers all littered about, people weaving through them like a slow and messy river. Some of the stalls were local Gothamites who’d gotten a deal with Haly; most though, were originally from the circus. The smell of roasting chestnuts wafted in the air and entire stalls devoted to golden honey sweets attracted a lot of customers and more than one errant bee.

He could hear accordion music in the distance, and that could only mean Gustav was in a particularly good mood. He saw the clowns twins, currently going by their stage names, Memo and Nene, fooling around with some kids, making balloon animals and handing them out whilst making strange faces.

Dick heaved a deep breath and took a step forward, then another, and another. His head swiveled all around as he captured this sight, as a smile grew on his face. It was like he remembered, as if he’d never left. He didn’t feel the need to look back to know Jason was there with him, so he simply let his body move on it’s own. 

They approached a stall and bought corn dogs. They got balloon crowns from the twins. They watched in awe with the growing crowd as Madeleine performed a dance with her silk scarf, her bright pink hair billowing with her movements. He smiled warmly as she drew her girlfriend Florence into the dance, much to her embarrassment. But everyone clapped and cheered.

Dick felt like he was floating, the happiness of just  _ being _ there was almost overwhelming, like he was in an all too familiar dream. 

The thought alone made him stop in his tracks, and he realized he’d led them towards the animal cages. He knew that just beyond them were the performers trailers. 

He turned around, smiling apologetically at Jason “Let’s go back this way.” 

He tried to walk past him but Jason stopped him, putting a hand on his chest and pushing him back slightly. “What’s through there?” He asked, pointing with his chin, and Dick didn’t have to guess at what he meant.

“That’s the trailer park. It’s for performers only, we can’t go there.”

“Last I checked you’re a performer,” Jason argued. “Don’t you want to see all of it?”

Dick shifted from foot to foot, looking back at the maze of cages with uncertainty. Instead of giving Jason an asnwer he turned back around, making his way through the different cages. They walked quietly but swiftly, using every technique Tim had taught them as to not bother the animals and end up causing a ruckus.

It was just moments before they were faced with rows of trailers, each owner’s personal tastes spilling out of them. The circus was errant but this was one place that never changed, it was the place that felt the most like home.

He found his own, the Graysons trailer, as if it was second nature. It was undisturbed, he could imagine his dad opening the door for him and asking where he’d been, his mom peeking in from behind him conspiratorially. But now it was just a closed door. Dick tried the latch and found it locked, no surprises there.

“We can try open it,” Jason said from behind him, holding out a leather pouch. Tim had probably lent Jason his lockpicking tools for the day, as he was better than Dick at it, second only to Tim himself.

Dick hummed, walking back down the steps, still facing the trailer. “No, it’s alright. I didn’t expect it to be open.”

“Sorry,” Jason said.

“It’s fine,” Dick sniffed a bit, rubbing his eyes preemptively before stuffing his hands in his pocket. “This was good enough.”

They started walking back where they’d come from but Dick stopped suddenly as he was struck with an idea. “Actually, there’s somewhere else I’d like to go. Come on!”

Dick broke into a run in the opposite direction, trusting Jason would follow, passing by the trailers until they came up to the back entrance of the main tent. The big top towered over them in all its red glory.

“Watch out for people,” Dick told Jason, not waiting for a confirmation before he slipped in.

The clown alley was dark and empty of any performers, which worked for him perfectly. He entered the ring and everything was just as he’d left them that day. The swings were tied to the columns, but he simply knew they hadn’t been used.

He thought that if only something were to jump out at him. Some clue the police had missed, something to take down the Black Mask once and for all… Make him pay for what he’d done...

From a gap in the main entrance at the other side of the ring, outside promoting the next show, he saw Haly. Suddenly he remembered what Tim had said. People didn’t trust the police enough to tell them everything they knew. But Haly knew him. He was like a grandfather to him. If anyone knew anything it’d be Haly. Plus, he would keep him being at the circus a secret, he could trust him.

He was thinking this as he strode towards him. His head rolling with the excitement of seeing Haly, of talking to him.

Then, Jason shouted his name. 

Dick turned around and looked for him, instead coming face to face with a furious Florence who was marching at him, though the closer she got the more her face seemed terrified.

“Dick, run!” And now he could see Jason, hanging from the scruff of his shirt, hanging from Samson’s strong grasp and struggling in his hold.

“Jason! Samson, what…?”

“What are you doing here?!” Florence hissed at him, who in Dicks moment of confusion, had gotten close enough to hold his upper arms in a tight grip. “Are you crazy?! Why did you come back?!”

“What…?” Was all Dick knew how to say. But the magician was looking around frantically, covering Dick in what could only be Madeleines silk scarf.

“Come on!” He felt himself get tugged back to the clown alley and pushed down onto a small crate.

“Let me go!” Jason complained.

“Don’t run.” Samson advised.

“Bite me! Let. Me. Go.” Jason said, getting more incensed by the second.

Dick unwrapped the scarf from his face and looked up at Flo with confusion. Her face was pinched as she looked from one boy to the other, then nodded to Samson. As he was lowered she told him, “Just promise not to run off just yet.”

Jason glared at her and immediately went to Dicks side.

“Nice job keeping watch.” Dick murmured.

“Like you’re one to talk, look at the size on this guy!” He gestured at Samson. Dick was about to say something when Florence intervened.

“Dick, you can't be here.” 

“Why not?” He asked dejectedly.

“You’re… you’re safer out there. Here we can’t, we can’t protect you.” She hugged herself and Samson put a hand over her shoulder reassuringly.

“Protect me from what, Flo? My parents are dead,” and he hurt with the way she flinched at his words but he couldn’t understand why he was being shut out so suddenly. “There’s nothing I want more than being back here, with you guys. There’s nothing I have  _ left _ .”

“But you can’t,” she shook her head as if trying to shake off an illusion, tears were flowing from her eyes. “I’m sorry Dick, I’m sorry. They won’t let you.” She was pacing now, rubbing the heel of her hand to her temple. “This is so fucked up, Samson. Madame was right! Shit, shit, shit!” She cursed, and it was the most uncensored he'd ever seen her. But then again there was always his parents or Madame herself to scold her. Now it was just them.

“Who’re these clowns?” Jason asked Dick, but he didn't answer in order to listen to Florence. She had put a hand over her mouth, almost in disgust and was muttering either to herself or Samson. 

“They staged it, it was all planned, I’m certain of it. I’m so angry!” She stomped the ground, clearly unable to contain herself. “I’m so angry I can’t do anything else to help you.”

“Flo, Samson, I don’t understand…”

Florence kneeled in front of him and held his shoulders, her intense gaze locking onto his eyes. “Listen to me Dick,” she said, but he was stubbornly shaking his head, he wasn't having it. Whatever Flo wanted to tell him had to be a lie. But she shook him, trying to get him to pay attention, “Listen!” she hissed. “You can't come back here,” she shook him as he began to shake his head, both of their faces were now riddled with tears, but her voice did not waver. “You can't be here, Dick. They’ll find you, they'll… I don't know what they want. You can't let them get to you, you hear me? You have to run away.”

“Run? What… Where?”

“Far. You have to run far, you can't ever come back.”

“What am I supposed to… I don't have…” he tried, but words were failing him. Instead of trying again, he wrapped his arms around Florence tightly, and was glad to feel her do the same. “Please, please,” he begged, “I don't want to go.”

“Im sorry, I’m sorry. Im glad youre okay,” she whispered.

“I don't want to leave,” he said, matching her volume.

“We don't want to lose you,” she said, parting from the hug but still holding him in her arms. “That's why you have to go.”

Dick held her gaze for a moment before asking the question that had been plaguing his head this entire time, “Wait, you know?” Flo bit her lip, as if physically preventing herself from speaking, but the action was more than enough. “You know who did this to my parents?” Dick frowned, leaving her arms as she backed away but he clutched at her sleeves. “The Black—”

“I cant—“

“Samson!” he turned to the other man, who was trying and failing to hide his huge size behind Florence. “Tell me, Sam!”

Florence held out her arms in front of her, shielding Samson from Dicks ire. “We don't know! We just know that they’re dangerous and they could be listening. They could already know you’re here,” she said, then rapidly turned to Samson. “Sam…”

Samson approached them and before they knew it he had lugged both of them over his shoulder. 

“Hey, What gives!”

“Let me go!”

“Take then to the back exit, don’t let anyone see you.”

“Flo? Florence! Samson, let me go! Florence!”

“Don't look for them, Dick! Don't let them find you!” she said before falling out of view.

“I’m sorry,” was all Samson could say as he took them away from the circus. He dumped both of them in the curve as lightly as you could do so with two struggling children. Dick glared at him with shining eyes and the giant man did nothing else but nod at them sadly and turning to walk away. 

Dick suddenly felt the fight going out of him and stepped forward to follow him, but his legs had turned to jelly. He stumbled and fell. He could feel Jason's hands catching him and helping him up, but all his attention was on Samsons retreating form, returning to the circus he was forbidden to go back to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had to cut off a segment right after this so the pacing wouldn’t be thrown off. But man oh man we’re getting to the nitty gritty now!  
> I feel like I need to apologize for the sudden, unannounced plunge into the absolute pity party this has turned into lately, it’s not getting better any time soon. Gomen 🙇
> 
> Next Up: ...So, what next?


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning on this chapter for Suicide discussion up ahead. Its nothing too bad but it gets pretty dark for a sec there, so watch out for that.

They met up with Tim the next day at the usual dinner, as they had previously agreed. Originally, it was meant as a way for Dick to talk to his heart's content about his visit to the circus but things were looking bleak on that front.

Dick had clammed up since they left the circus the day before, and besides a few yes or no answers he hadn’t said a peep. Jason didn’t blame him, but if he was being honest, he preferred it when Dick was talking out of his elbows, at least then he knew what he was feeling.

As it was, it was up to Jason to tell Tim what had happened.

“So, what do you make of it?” Jason asked Tim. His face had slowly morphed from mild concern (from seeing Dicks behavior) to abject horror as the story progressed. Halfway through he had even forgotten about the caffeinated experimental slush Buffy had generously provided him.

“I… This is…” Tim carded a hand through his hair and stumbled through his words the way he usually did whenever he had a lot to say but didn’t know how. “Dick,” he turned to the other boy, “I’m sorry… If I’d known this would happen, I…”

Jason looked at Dick, who was sitting next to him in the booth. Dick was still ignoring their conversation, his cheek propped up on the palm of his hand as he looked out through the cracked up window. He couldn’t see his expression as he was facing away from him, but he imagined it was the same one he’d bore for the past day. A furrowed brow and glazed eyes that felt like they were looking inwards. It was a look he had never seen on his friend, a look he didn’t care for one bit, but couldn’t get him to stop.

Across from him, Tim was biting his lip, possibly thinking the same thing. Their eyes locked for a moment and he slumped back, defeated.

“This is… worse than I imagined,” Tim said, finally answering Jason’s question. “This implies Dick is the target.” He raised his eyes cautiously towards Dick. “Whoever did this, they were trying to get to you.” His next words were said carefully, but the punch in them was still there. “Your parents were probably just an obstacle.”

Jason watched out for Dicks reaction. He hadn’t so much flinched as he had tensed, the hand that wasn’t holding his head closed into a tight fist. It was as if he had reached that very same conclusion himself, and Jason could see it too. It made sense, to get to Dick you’d need to get the parents out of the equation. It was the sort of sick shit he was used to seeing, but it didn’t make it any easier to witness.

“This changes everything,” Tim muttered.

“This changes nothing,” said Dick, speaking up for the first time. 

The shock at his words was worn off Tim’s face fairly quickly as he tried to argue, “It does. If they’re so far reaching as your friend says… we might not be talking about just the police being compromised anymore. Your best bet is probably to ru—“

Dick stood up suddenly, slamming his hands on the table, making Tim flinch back. “Do not tell me to run! I won’t run!” 

The few customers in the dinner turned their heads curiously. Buffy poked her head out of the kitchen, wide eyes and equally wide smile pointed towards them.

Jason laid a hand in Dicks shoulder, pulling him down back to his seat, both to hide him from view and to make him calm down.

“I want to make him pay,” Dick said, his voice dialed down to a low growl. “There’s nothing for me out there, I might as well.”

“I knew you had a death wish.” Jason commented.

“I’m sorry but, Jason’s right!” Tim said, leaning forwards over the table, trying to keep his voice down. “If we go there now we’ll just be playing right into his hands.”

“I don’t care,” Dick shrugged.

“You’re not thinking things through!”

“I  _ have _ thought this through,” he said without elaborating.

“Well? Enlighten us, then!”

“Simple. I want to hurt him,” Dick said, looking darkly at his fists.

“So what?” Jason scoffed. “You just planning to knock on his front door and throw a fit?”

“He took everything from me, I want to take something from him, I don’t care what it is.”

“This isn’t justice,” Tim tried, “this is revenge. You know this isn’t right! You keep saying you have nothing to lose, but what about us?”

“You don’t have to come.”

Tim was taken aback, his eyes flickering as if trying to catch Dick in a lie. He looked at Jason for help, but Jason couldn’t help but agree.

“I’m with you,” Jason said. Dick gave him a guarded look, whilst Tim looked horrified.

“Have you both lost your minds?!” He hissed.

“Sorry, Tim,” Jason shrugged. “I already knew how dangerous this game were playing was, you’re the ones late to the party.”

“This is crazy…”

“Truth is I… I never thought I’d ever amount to anything. I knew I wouldn’t make it very far out there, I already made peace with that,” Jason said, looking out of the window to the rough streets that had made him grow up with his teeth bared. He took a deep breath, “But, given the opportunity I want to make things better for the people here. If that means throwing myself at the Black Mask, then so be it.”

“So that’s it? You’ll martyr yourself?” Tim said, looking from one to another. “Dying is not what gives your life meaning, living is.

“That’s for people who can afford to live.”

Tim blushed bright red with anger, but he still didn’t raise his voice, “So that’s it? You’re pushing me aside? You want me to sit idly while I know you’re both out there, sticking your hands in the lion's den?”

Dick sighed, “Which is why we’re telling you you don’t have to come. You don’t have a reason to.”

“I-I don’t have a  _ reason _ ? Are you kidding me?” Tim laughed mirthlessly, his shoulders shaking. “I’ve wanted to do nothing more than help you.”

“You’ve helped me enough.”

“I don’t want to think I helped you die!” Dick flinched and Tim’s voice grew softer. “Please, think this through. This wasn’t our objective…”

“Circumstances change, Tim,” Jason interrupted. He felt bad for fighting him this much, especially since they were ganging up on him; but where it was reckless for them to continue, it was downright pointless to stop anyways. “You can’t expect things to go your way all the time.”

Tim looked like he had more to say but his shoulders sagged and he looked down. “They never do.”

Buffy chose that moment to pop up and check on them. “Hey there, fellas! How’s it goin’!” She said cheerfully, then stopped to notice the mood in the table. “Oh no, is it the food? Sorry, our chef just  _ loves _ to use weird ingredients! I say to him, ‘Stop experimenting with the food,’ and he says to me, he says: ‘But what am I gonna do with all this free thyme!’” She looked from one face to the other but didn’t find the reaction she’d wanted, “Really? Nothing? Okay, well. Here’s ya bill,” she slammed a paper down on the table before walking away. “Now scram, toddlers, it’s closing thyme!”

“It’s the middle of the day...” Jason said to himself. 

Tim grabbed the bill out of habit. After a moment, he said, “So then, you’re going?”

Dick nodded and Tim mirrored him, as if convincing himself that the decision was out of his hands.

“Then, come by my place. At least don’t go empty handed.”

“Won’t your dad be there?” Jason asked, but Tim simply put money on the table and got to his feet.

“Let’s go.”

 

They had gathered up their things back at Tim’s house, the place had been empty so they had been able to move about freely.

Jason had remembered to take back his gun when no one was looking; and Dick had stubbornly kept the broken up bat, even though it had been split in two, but Jason wasn’t about to argue with him about it. 

“You sure I can have this?” Jason said, pointing at the bike.

Tim, shrugged, “Yeah man, I don’t use it anyways.”

“Thanks.”

They walked to the garage door to make their exit but Tim stopped them. “Are you guys sure about this?”

Dick looked over his shoulder and sighed, “Yes, Tim.”

“Before I see you off… I  have something I’d like to give to you two.” 

They both turned to look at Tim who reached behind him and pulled out a paper bag. “Sorry they aren’t perfect, I thought I’d have more time to make them better…” he reached inside and pulled out three long black strips of cloth with two holes in each. “I thought we could wear these, like the heroes on tv.” 

Dick and Jason each took one. Looking at it, Jason realized it was a mask, with long strips to tie them at the back.

“I realize how childish it is now. But I still want you to have them.”

“Thank you, Tim.” Dick said, holding the mask close to his chest. “For everything.”

Tim shifted from foot to foot, hesitating for a moment, then flinging himself towards Dick and trapping him into a hug. Dick was shocked for a moment before shifting to free his hands and return the gesture.

Tim looked at Jason and held one of his arms open for him. Jason chuckled and let himself get swallowed by the warmth of the hug.

Tim nestled his head between them and whispered, “Thank you.”

After a moment they all parted and Tim smiled at them, though there were tears in his eyes. “You still owe me that flip.”

Dicks eyes widened, then his face softened into a smile, “Of course.”

Tim turned to Jason and mock frowned, “And you owe me money.”

Jason cackled, “Aye, aye,” he saluted.

Tim smiled at them, “Don’t be strangers,” he said. And they all knew they were probably not coming back, but they still nodded their heads and left the garage. 

Even five blocks away, they could still see Tim’s silhouette in front of his house watching them walk away.

Jason turned to Dick who was riding with him on the bike, “So what now? We said we’d go to Black Mask but we don’t have a clue where he’s hiding, it could be anywhere.”

“Don’t worry, I have a plan for that.”

 

Dick guided him most of the way until Jason realized they were moving in the direction of the old Theater. It was amusing to think how familiar Dick had become with the Gotham streets in such a short time. Jason thought that, if they weren't about to walk to their deaths, the three of them could have conquered these streets in no time.

Dick patted him on the shoulder and pointed off to the side, towards an alley entrance. Instead of braking, Jason took a hard turn and drifted the bike, coming to a hard stop in the darkness between two apartment buildings. Dick got off and Jason shortly followed after propping up the bike where no one would see it.

“It's a dead end, what are we doing here?” Jason asked looking around. It was the sort of alley they usually found the Batmobile parked in, a wide alley cast in shadow by the tall buildings on each side, no matter the time of day.

“We’re meeting someone,” Dick said cryptically, and before Jason could wonder who this out of town kid could possibly know, he spoke up as if addressing the alley itself. “Come out! I know you’re there!” Nothing happened, but Dick tried again, “I know you’ve been following me!”

“Dude, what—“

Jason was interrupted as a shadow detached itself from the darkness and landed silently in front of them. A pair of yellow eyes appeared out of nowhere, like headlights in an abandoned stretch of road. Jason pushed Dick behind him and took out the crowbar he had attached to one of his belt loops.

“Stay back!”

The figure, whatever it was, didn't seem surprised by Jasons reaction. His voice was amused and more than a bit condescending. “Why, Little John, what would you have done if I hadn't been here after all? You would have looked like a fool in front of your dog.”

Jason tensed, preparing to attack as soon as this guy even blinked. But Dick put his hand on his shoulder and nodded at him.

“You said your mission was to protect me.”

“It’s a self imposed mission.” The stranger stepped forward and now Jason could see more of him. It was a kid, just like them, if not a bit shorter than Tim was. His face was concealed with a mask and his body was hidden by what looked to be a robe or a cape. Jason groaned inwardly, it was one of the Gotham crazies. “I have a life outside of this, the world does not turn around you,” he said, twirling a gloved finger.

“But you still came when I called you,” Dick replied, smiling smugly.

The expression on the boy soured almost immediately, “Because I’m curious to know if you changed your mind about our deal.”

“What deal is he talking about?” asked Jason. He hated being out of the loop and not knowing what he was getting to. But he mostly didn't like the idea of Dick hiding something like this from them, though he knew it wasn't the time to argue about that.

“He wants me to give myself up to the police,” Dick said without breaking eye contact with the masked boy. 

“What?!” Jason glared at the boy. This could mean a myriad of things, the worst of which they understood all too well by now. 

“Then, what will it be? Are you tired of playing games already?”

“Yes.”

“Good.” The boy took another step towards them.

“But first,” Dick held out his hand, stopping the boy dead on his tracks. “I need a favor from you.”

“I thought I was clear last time—”

“Yes, but this is a different favor.” The boy didn't make another attempt to move, so Dick carried on. “I want you to take us to your boss.”

There was a small, gradual widening of the bright yellow lenses, before the kid broke down with laughter. Dick and Jason exchanged a look. Finally, after a moment, the boy composed himself, wiping a non existent tear from his concealed eyes. 

“And why, pray tell,” he said, his voice taking a rather predatory lilt, “would I do that?”

“Black Mask and I have some personal business to take care of. I'd rather go to the source than get juggled from hand to hand.”

All the amusement dropped from the other boys face. “Black Mask is  _ not _ my boss.” 

Dick sighed with exasperation, “Look, I don't care whatever hierarchy you guys have going on. Your partner, your dad, your whatever. I just need you to lead us there.” The boy didn't seem very impressed.

Jason himself had become more wary about this boy at the mention of Black Mask. He'd never seen him before, but then again, he'd never seen the Black Mask in person either. This must be a pretty high ranked lackey, or worse, an equal.

He didn’t understand however, if he wanted to give up Dick to the police, who were probably working for BM, why not take Dick directly to him instead? He knew these masked wackos were all about pride, not a single one of them would pass up taking all the credit for Dicks capture.

So then what was going on here? He glanced at Dick and wondered if maybe he didn't have such a strong grasp on their situation after all. What if they were dealing with something far more dangerous than just the Black Mask?

Dick, unaware of Jasons thoughts, continued trying to push the boy. “If you do this for me, I promise you I'll do whatever you want me to do. I just need to talk to him, face to face, just once. Please.”

The boy seemed to cross his arms underneath his cape, and he looked over each of them for a moment. “We’ve played cat and mouse for far too long, Little John.”

“I know, I want this to be over, too.”

“You realize what you are asking of me is utterly ridiculous, yes?”

Dick nodded.

“And that you’re unprepared. You might die. And then, we  _ both _ lose.” Dick seemed confused by this. The boy sighed deeply, “Very well, I shall escort you there.”

Dick beamed at this admission, turning to Jason to give him a thumbs up.

“Do not celebrate so early. I'll do my best to keep you alive until then, and you know what that entails.” Dick nodded, gulping with dread. The boy raised a hand and pointed at Jason, “For him, however, I make no promises.”

Jason bared his teeth. “I can take care of myself.”

“See that you do.”

“Thank you,” Dick said, holding out his hand.

“Do not thank me,” the boy smiled, gripping Dicks hand tightly, “this is what Robin does, isn't it?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “Double Update!” because it'll probably be the last time im able to update this year. Maaaybe.
> 
> Poor Tim, he gets pushed away by everyone. Poor Jason, all he wants is for his life to count for something. Poor Dick, losing sight of everything he’s gained because of everything he's lost. Poor Damian, who just wants to be good in the only way he knows how. Poor misguided boys.
> 
> Well, happy holidays!


	20. Chapter 20

They had followed ‘Robin Hood’ all the way to a seedy looking bar downtown. It didn't seem much different from every other bar they had passed on the way over; in fact, it looked slightly better than the dinner they usually frequented. Even as it lacked a proper sign and scary looking men were drinking just outside.

Dick knew going in that they'd be putting a lot of trust in Robin’s word to take them to Black Mask, since they had no way to confirm they were at the right place. Still, if Robin were trying to play them into a trap he'd still be taking them to someone who worked for BM; so, in Dicks head, there wasn't much risk of getting too off track.

Either way, he was already doing them a favor by leading them  _ somewhere, _ so Dick didn't feel like testing his patience.

They were currently hiding behind a truck parked across the street, looking towards the building. 

“How are we getting in?” Dick whispered. The place was packed, and the burly bouncer blocking the door didn't look especially welcoming. Not to mention it being a bar, a group of kids wouldn't go completely unnoticed, though he'd been wrong about that before.

“Simple, we walk through the front door.” Robin said.

“Really?” That earned him a slap up the back of his head. He turned to glare at Jason. 

“He’s clearly being sarcastic.”

“You can tell?”

“Enough fooling around, follow me,” Robin said before turning the corner in the opposite direction. 

“You started it!” Dick said before following.

They went around the entire block to avoid being seen, ending up in the back alley behind the bar. Robin signaled them to wait, before going up to the man lounging next to the back exit.

The man barely had the time to yelp crumpling to the ground, with Robin standing over him. Dick hadn’t even been able to see what he’d done to the guy. He forced himself not to think about the burglar in the kitchen.

“Come,” Robin snapped, forcing the door open and disappearing into the building.

Jason gestured for him to go first, holding the door open for him before going in himself.

Beyond the door Dick expected to find some sort of kitchen or the bathroom area of the bar. Instead they entered a long dark corridor with a very obvious drop in the end. Looking down he could barely make out the ladder propped up against the edge. He couldn’t see Robin anywhere but he assumed he’d gone ahead.

He was halfway down the ladder when Jason spoke up in a low voice. “So, when were you planning to introduce us to your friend there?”

“Really? You wanna do this now?”

“Not like I was given much of a choice, was I?”

Dick paused at the bottom of the stairs, he could see a body on the ground not too far away, Robin had clearly passed through. He kept knocking out Black Masks guys and Dick couldn’t make heads or tails of it. Why would he need to keep up this charade if they’d already come so far?

“What was I supposed to say?” He answered Jason once he’d come down to join him. They started making their way through a longer, better lit corridor as cautiously as possible. “An assassin child is after me?” 

Jason didn’t reply, probably because the answer to that seemed pretty obvious to him.

It had been obvious to Dick too, in a different way. He knows he should have said something. But they already worried about him so much, he hadn’t wanted to add to that stress. They were always giving, giving and giving, without leaving much opportunity for Dick to show his gratitude. So then, he’d do this for them at least, even if they didn’t know it. He’d deal with just this much, on his own.

So when they had met in the bathroom and he had invoked Dick’s last name, all his efforts felt futile. His father and his mother had become irrevocably linked to his actions just by having that connection. 

He had felt truly scared of him, then. He’d been afraid that he was right to think he was at fault. He was afraid of losing one of his friends and ultimately it being his fault. He hadn’t been just afraid, he’d been terrified.

But the situation was different now. He wasn’t afraid of ‘Robin’, he wasn't afraid of what he might do to anyone who got in the way, he wasn't even afraid of what he might do to him once they reached their destination. He just wanted all of it to be over already.

He was tired.

“It doesn’t matter anyways,” Dick said, keeping his eyes on the lookout for a familiar dark shadow, “you know now, don't you?”

On both sides of the impossibly long corridor there were a series of doors, each with nothing but a small frosted glass panel in the middle to look into. Every time they passed a door they looked through the small, yellowed window—too hard to see through—and tried the knob—always locked.

Jason shrugged in  his periphery. “I'm just saying, it woulda been nice to have a ninja coach instead of pulling shit out of our asses half the time.”

“Hey I’m a professional aerialist… Wait,” Dick said holding out his hand.

One of the doors, on the right, was opening out towards them. They heard the men before they saw actually them.

“I dont get why I gots to wear the ugly Party City Lex Luthor mask and you get the cool demon thing.”

“You ever heard about seniority? Me and the big guy are tight.”

“Right, like he even knows your name.”

“Shut your mouth, Luthor.”

Dick looked at Jason and nodded. Understanding, Jason walked towards the door, lifted up one leg and stomped it on the door as hard as he could. The man on the other side yelped in pain.

Dick didn't give them time to recover, he rounded the door and as soon as he saw the man clutching his nose, clearly in pain, he sent a well aimed kick to his groin. The man folded almost immediately, cursing up a storm. 

The guy behind him wearing a red demon mask was stunned for a moment before he noticed Dick. “Why you…!” his hand flew towards the holster on his side.

He didn't get to do much else as Jason vaulted over Dick from behind and cracked his metal crowbar on the guys head as he was coming down. Dick drove a knee on the faux Luthor's face and the man crumpled to the ground at the same time as his partner.

It was over as soon as it had begun. 

“Now thats what i’m talking about.” Jason grinned at him and they bumped their knuckles together.

“Lets go,” said Dick, his heart beating fast from the short fight. “I think I can see the end of the hallway.”

“Wait,” Jason crouched over the demon masked guy and started rummaging through his clothes. Before Dick could ask what he was doing, Jason lifted something out of the guys pants. A ring of keys. “Hell yeah.”

“Good thinking!”

Jason stood up and walked towards the door on the opposite side of the corridor. “Wanna see what's behind door number two?”

“Please,” Dick curtsied, “after you.”

Even with their playfulness Jason approached the door carefully, pressing his face against the door for a moment to try to listen in. After almost a minute of nothing he tried a few keys and finally unlocked the door. They braced themselves for a fight, but the room was empty, save for a table, a couple of chairs and shelves brimming with boxes.

Looking behind towards the room the men had come from showed an almost mirrored image of the same room. Same furniture, same amount of large boxes, with the only exception being some empty bottles of beer and the unconscious bodies of the two goons they had just fought, laying on the ground.

“Guess we keep going,” Dick said with a sigh, considering theyd been walking for a bit they were getting farther and farther away from the only exit. Dick wasnt claustrophobic, but he didn't know how far this place went. Hell, they probably weren't even under the seedy pub anymore, hed be surprised if they were.

“I'm amazed we've only met these two clowns all the way down here,” Jason commented as they resumed their trek, he was twirling the ring of keys on one finger. “Think its your friends doing?”

Dick clamped his hand over Jasons, trapping the keys between them. “He's not my friend,” he snatched the keys, “and I don't know, maybe?” He went to another door to try to open it.

“Could be a trap.”

“Does it matter?” he said over his shoulder.

Jason shrugged, “Guess not.”

The room was again empty. They continued like this for a while. Opening doors and looking inside. A few times they found already unconscious goons, and they only had to fight a few guys once, (It wasn't lost to them that, had they been three one of the guys wouldn't have gotten a lucky hit on Jason's blind side, but neither of them mentioned it.) Some of the rooms had other doors leading someplace else, but none of the keys worked on those. After a few doors Jason got curious and pried open one of the crates with his crowbar. They were even bundles wrapped in paper and masking tape. Dick didn't know what it was but Jason just shook his head in disapproval. They moved on.

Then the corridor ended.

“This is so obvious,” Jason remarked. Dick couldn't help but agree.

At the end of the corridor was another door, much like the other ones. Except, where others had had cracked wood and glass yellowed with age, this one was almost new. And there was another thing, the door had a knife stuck on the frame.

Dick tried to pry it out but it was really lodged in. He gave up with a sigh and looked at the key ring. He had been counting the keys. They had used almost all of them, and counting the doors they had passed before they got them… there was no way they had the key for this one.

It wasn’t necessary though, as Jason tapped him on the shoulder to grab his attention and point back to the door. The knob was different, it didn't have a keyhole at all.

They exchanged a look, there was no going back now. But, he guessed that there never had been. 

Dick turned the knob and threw the door wide open, letting it slam against the wall.

The room in front of them was an office. The walls were decorated with masks, as if they were hunting trophies, there was a carpet in the middle of the wooden floor and on top of it was a desk, large and impossing. And behind that desk sat a man, wearing a black leather mask in the semblance of a skull.

There was a moment of silence as they took each other in, before Black Mask got to his feet. Jason was faster than him though, he barreled into the room and stood in front of the man—pointing a gun to his head.

“Don't try any shit or I brain you.”

Black Mask seemed amused by this, or so Dick thought by the look in his eyes. Jason cocked the gun and some of the amusement disappeared, but not completely.

Black Mask raised his arms in surrender and sat back down. Jason followed his movement, the gun still trained on his head.

“If this is a job application you can color me impressed, though your age might be a problem,” he chuckled darkly, “anywhere else.”

“Shut up!” Jason barked, Black Mask raised his hands a second time, though almost playfully. Jason glanced over his shoulder towards Dick.

Dick closed the distance between him and the desk, taking just a second to look at the gun in Jason's hand, trembling minutely. He returned his attention to the criminal.

“I need answers.”

“And why would I give you anything?”

“Because otherwise the conversation is over and my friend here will end it.”

The man glanced at Jason and his eyes narrowed, “I don't think he has it in him.”

“Try me.”

Then, to Dick he said, “But let's say I believe that, what happens if I do answer? Do we become friends?” he said in a mocking tone.

“If I don't like your answer then it'll be me who ends it.”

“Hah! I like the attitude. Children these days.” He leaned back onto his leather chair and motioned for them to continue with a gloved hand. “Well, then ask away.”

“Why did you kill the Graysons.”

“Who?”

“Don't play coy!” Dick said, slamming a hand on the desk. 

“I literally have no idea who you're talking about, runt. Try again.”

Dick gritted his teeth. “The Flying Graysons. Why did you target the circus?” Finally, a sliver of recognition in the man's eyes, that quickly turned into a knowing glint.

“You're the Grayson boy. My, my.”

“Answer the question, Mask,” Jason warned.

“I did nothing to them.”

“Liar!”

“Its true, I don't like carnivals. These people wouldn't know good acting even if it hit them in the face.”

“We saw your men there, we have proof,” Jason said, “you're not getting out of this one easy.”

Mask was doing something strange with his face now, it was searching and suspicious. Then he said, “My men.” It wasn't a question.

“It ain't hard to recognize this kinda branding, is it?” Jason said, motioning to the many masks lining the walls with his free hand.

Mask steepled his fingers, lost in thought for a moment. “Yes, I seem to remember,” he nodded, then shrugged without a care in the world, “I don't deal with tiny things personally, I believe in delegation.”

“So you admit it,” Dick said, his fists shaking at his side.

“Did I offer—Haly was it?—did  _ my men _ offer him protection on my behalf? Yes, they did. Its standard procedure, you're new in town you better watch your backs.” This he said to Dick, and somehow he could imagine a sharp grin beneath the skulls toothy smile. He had to stifle a shiver. “But then that rat played me,” he said, his voice hardening with a dark emotion.

“What do you mean,” Dick asked, taking a step forward despite Jason's warning look.

“As you said, my brand is very unique when I want it to be. So imagine my surprise, when the three men tasked to meet this Haly guy at his arrival, turn up dead just a day after.”

“Dead? But thats…” Impossible. Tim had taken pictures of them, Jason had confirmed they were Masks guys. Not only that, the pictures dated a few days after they entered Gotham, since it took some time to set everything up.

“So what, you coulda sent more guys, you ain't lacking on that side.”

“I also don't lack  _ brains _ . Someone killed my men and then days later some clowns are dead too. I know better than stick my nose in that sort of can of worms. I know a set up when I see one,” then he leaned forward, “but you wouldn't know about that would you.”

They didn't have time to process his words. There was suddenly a large man behind them, pointing a gun to the back of Jason's head. It felt like time had gone still for a moment, the grin of the man slowly widening, Jason's muscles stiffening up. Then, another thing happened.

The ceiling burst open, or more specifically a vent grate fell to the ground, followed by Robin, who swun his feet out and caught the man in the back of his head with his boots. He flipped forward, grabbed the man's gun and threw it at Black Masks head. Before the goon could regain his senses he drove a sword looking blade through his chest, then quickly retrieved it, paying no mind at the splatter of blood that came with it. Turning his attention back to the Mask he flipped two knives towards him, both of them lodging themselves in the leather chair, inches away from his face.

“Robin,” Dick said dumbly. He gave Jason a quick once over, he was still stunned, his gun half raised. He wanted to ask if he was okay, but Robin started talking.

“You were very helpful,” he set a glass vial on the desk and flicked it towards Black Mask but stopped it halfway before he caught it, “But if you ever think about breaking a deal with me, next time there will be no antidote.” He released the vial and Black Mask took it.

“I've never known you superhero bunch to resort to extortion,” he said, inspecting the vial and stuffing it in his jacket pocket.

Robin clicked his tongue, “It’s a good thing i'm not a superhero, then.”

“What's going on?” Dick asked. 

Another man came running into the room, and Damian shot a knife towards the newcomer, it sliced past his ear, but it was clearly just a warning.

The man clutched the side of his face and confused took in the people in the room. He was wearing a dirty apron, but he seemed more like a cook than a butcher.

“What is it?” Black Mask demanded,

The man gasped, seemingly out of breath from running. “The Bat, sir. He's here.”

Robin spat a word that sounded foreign followed with: “I cannot be seen here.” To Dick he said, “You must leave at once.”

“What?”

“Now!”

At his imperative tone, Jason and Dick broke on a run back to the exit, but not before they heard Robin say, “This isn’t over.”

In the hallway they could faintly hear the muffled sound of gunfire coming from the inner rooms. But they didn't want to get caught up in it. Faster than the trek in, they reached the ladder and the door to the back entrance, but they didnt stop running there.

At the mouth of the alley a police car, sirens blaring, screeched to a stop right in front of them. They had half a mind to run back the other way when the driver’s side door opened.

It was Barbara. 

“Quick! Get in!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did you really think that they'd be able to get anything out of BM without Robins help? please.  
> Next up: Barbara?? How did she get here? The kids have reached a dead end, or have they?


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter went through soooo many changes you have no idea. That chapter count is taunting me but I won’t let it win.
> 
> You know what I hate? When we’re in the climax of the story and the writer pulls back so here’s me doing that exact thing:
> 
> Minutes in the past, but not many.

Barbara had been swiveling on her dads office chair, balancing a pen over her upper lip. She was bored out of her mind. Her notebooks were open on the desk, with half finished homework in their pages; but geometry had uncharacteristically lost its appeal at the moment, as her mind was elsewhere.

These boys hadn’t contacted her again, after that day. Tim had told her they were alright when she called to check in, and that they were regrouping, whatever that meant. But still the line had gone metaphorically cold. 

She had sent a few messages to Tim trying to get more information, but he hadn’t gone online for a while. She tried calling again but the one who answered the phone had been the woman from the other day, saying Tim had gone out to meet his dad. She said that before accusing Barbara of having some sort of illicit relationship with Tim, which was ludicrous. 

So, she had returned to her boring routine of being a good student and a good daughter. Of watching her father’s spirits slowly wither under the pressure he was in. It was both mind numbing and soul crushing.

She took out the phone out of her pocket. It was the one Tim had given her in order to be able to contact them remotely. She had kept it secret from everyone else lest her father learn about it and take it away.

She flipped the lid open, the screen coming to life for just a second before she flipped it closed with a flick of the wrist. The phone was bare, not a single incoming or outgoing text message, not even a single contact number registered. She hadn’t needed to register Tim’s number, as she had it down by memory. Tim had made it very clear that nothing could lead back to him or the other two.

He had said that, but the Snake game that came with the phone had the initials ‘TJD’ at the top of the leaderboard, so clearly this had been Tim’s phone. Whenever she was bored she tried to pass his high score in order to push the name down, but it had been too hard so she gave up after a few tries.

Now she was considering calling again. It had been too long already so something must have happened that they hadn’t told her about. Had they played her for a fool? Maybe she should have told her dad about this. But first she needed to try trusting them one last time, one last chance to make good on their promise to bring this case to a close.

She flipped open the phone to dial and it started ringing. She quickly hit the answer button and looked out through the glass into the bullpen to see if anyone had heard it, but everyone was minding their own business. 

“Hello?” She whispered, even though she was alone in the office.

“ _ Oracle, _ ” Tim said from the other side of the line, “ _ it’s Draconian, are you clear?” _

Tim had insisted they use their screen names when talking on the phone instead of their real names, in fear anyone would listen to their conversations. Barbara was of the opinion that Tim had watched one too many spy movies and was perhaps too paranoid for his age, but she played along. It was kinda cool to be called Oracle.

“I’m clear,” she said, keeping an eye on the door. “I wasn’t expecting you to call,” she said accusingly.

Her tone must have flown over Tim’s head as he simply powered on and went straight to the point as always, “ _ Right, I sort of need your help, _ ” he sounded a bit out of breath, like he was straining himself while talking. “ _ There’s a lot happening right now. _ ”

Barbara turned up her nose, even though he couldn’t see her. “I don’t know if I want to help you, I’ve been kept in the dark too much. If you want me to be on your side you have to tell me what’s happening.” There was silence on the other side of the line, apart from Tim’s labored breathing. Barbara tried to think of a way to squeeze the truth out of Tim. “If you don’t tell me I’ll rat  you out.”

Tim sighed, maybe out of exhaustion or in response to Barbara’s threat. “ _ They’re going to confront You-know-who. _ ” He finally said, in a tiny voice.

“Oh!” She gasped, “You-know-who as in  _ that _ You-know-who?”

“ _ I’m definitely not talking about Voldemort, yeah.” _

“Oh damn. Wait, you said they, why aren’t  _ you _ going?”

“ _ I… _ ” he hesitated, “ _ I have some more important stuff to do. _ ”

That didn’t sit well with Barbara. Had Tim abandoned them in their time of need? Had he chickened out? It was kind of disappointing, but she kept her thoughts to herself. Instead, she said, “More important than going after that guy?”

“ _ Y-Yes, _ ” he sounded unsure, “ _ It’s related. But I’ll need your help. _ ”

“Hmm.” There was no harm in hearing him out, and she’d rather be informed as to what he was up to than be in the dark. “Explain.”

“ _ I’m working with several assumptions right now, _ ” he said, setting into motion once more by the sound of his breathing, “ _ they… when they decided to go after him they didn’t seem like they were going to bide their time. _ ”

“So you think they’re going now?”

“ _ Correct. But, there’s no reason they’d know where he is. _ ”

“Oh. So there’s no reason to think they can actually find him,” she said.

“ _ Yes… except in this scenario the two way street is like a one lane railroad with opposing trains marching at full speed towards one another. _ ”

“I think your analogy got away from you there.”

“ _ I mean You-know-who is one hundred percent also looking for them, so if they go parading themselves around they will definitely find him. _ ”

“Yikes. Wait, so why does You-know-who want them?”

“ _ I have no idea, but we have testimonials to confirm this. Either way, they’re in danger and completely unprepared for what’s coming at them.” _

_ And that’s why you bailed _ , Barbara thought,  _ coward _ . “Okay, so they’re definitely one hundred percent toast. What… what do we do? Can we stop them?”

“ _ It’s too late for that, they’re going to need reinforcements. _ ”

“You want me to tell the police?” Somehow she didn’t think that was the case, else he would have just dialed 911.

“ _ We can’t do that, we don’t trust the police, remember? _ ”

He was right, there were a few crooked cops in the force. But still she had to defend at least one, “We can trust my dad.”

“ _ I’m counting on that _ ,  _ I want you to tell your dad _ .”

“Okay?”

“ _ But he can’t go alone, he’ll be going deep into that guy’s territory so it’ll be dangerous. That’s why I’m recruiting someone else. _ ”

“Who’s that?”

“ _ Batman. _ ”

Barbara’s eyes widened, “Batman? As in the conspiracy theory Batman?” She frowned, “You do know he isn’t real right? He’s just something people came up with to hound my dad.”

“ _ No he’s definitely one hundred percent real. _ ”

“Ehhhh, I don’t know,” she swiveled the chair, looking out the window where the city was starting to darken. 

“ _ Just trust me. _ ”

“Okay just, tell me the whole plan and then I’ll see if I’m convinced, sound good?”

Tim paused for a moment before rapidly going into an explanation. “ _ What I need you to do is this: in ten minutes I’m going to do something. I need you to go and get the commissioner, get him and whoever he trusts into patrol cars. Keep an eye on the sky, look for Batman, follow him. Hopefully he’ll know where to go and he’ll lead you right to it. If you get there look for them, help them get out safe. _ ” He took a deep breath, “ _ Do you think you can do this? _ ”

“Why can’t I just tell my dad now and they’ll meet ‘Batman’”, she said, making air quotes, “there?”

“ _ Because You-know-who sounds to me like the sort of person who moves around a lot. If there’s anyone I trust to know where he is right now, it’s Batman. _ ”

Pretty solid,  _ if _ Batman were real. “Okay.”

“ _ Thank you _ ,” he said with audible relief. “ _ 8 minutes now, wish me luck. _ ”

“Wait! What should I tell my dad?”

“ _ You’re smart, you’ll figure out something. Maybe the truth if you want. I just... want them to be safe, no matter what the consequences are. _ ” He hung up.

Barbara listened to the beep of the deadline for a moment before flipping the phone closed. She supposed he was still trying to help, even if he wasn’t going to be there in person. She couldn’t fault him for running either, the man was a murderer after all.

She got to her feet and went out of the office into the bullpen. It was crowded and noisy as usual. She scanned the room in search for her dad and she caught him talking to an officer. He exclaimed something that was lost in the din of the room and stomped his way towards the stairs. He only ever used the stairs to go to the roof to smoke.

Barbara intercepted him before he started going up. “Dad! I need your help.”

“Not now, Babs” he said dismissively, looking over her head towards the stairs.

Barbara held her arms up to her sides, effectively blocking the way. “It’s important.”

Her dad finally shifted his attention to her and blinked. Barbara didn’t often ask for anything from her dad, so he was shocked by it. “What is it?”

“It’s,” she started to say, but stopped. She thought about how dangerous this mission was. She was about to send him to Black Masks turf, Tim himself had said it was dangerous. Hadn’t she made all these efforts to take some of the burden off her dad's shoulders?“Babs?” her dad said, with a confused expression.

“It’s… um…” She couldn’t think of a reason why she would send him to risk his life. But she couldn’t leave the guys on their own either. They needed help, but did they need help at the cost of her father's safety? When Tim said he didn’t care about the consequences, but did he mean his consequences or that he didn’t care if it cost someone else’s life? Somehow she doubted it would be the second one, so she figured, maybe Tim would forgive her for this. “I… um… I left my… book in the car?”

“You left your book?”

“Yes, I… I need it for homework,” she lowered her arms, and looked down bashfully, trying to keep him from seeing a lie in her face.

“You need to get it?”

Barbara nodded her head.

Her dad rummaged around his jacket pocket for a moment before fishing out his car keys. He tossed them to her. “Lock the doors when you’re done, okay?”

“Okay.” She stared up at her dad, who was smiling at her that tired, kind smile he reserved for her. She ran up to him and hugged him, before quickly letting go. “Thanks, dad!” She ran to the elevator before giving him a chance to say anything more.

In the elevator a sense of dread befell her. She had just changed Tim’s plan drastically, what if it didn’t work? She bit her nails, thinking maybe she could still go back… except, there was no time. She had made a decision, she had better stick to it. 

When the elevator doors opened again she rushed out of it and went straight to the back exit. It lead directly out to the parking lot, where her dad's car was the closest.

She unlocked the doors and slipped inside, jamming the key into the ignition without actually turning it. Grasping the wheel tightly she realized she had to lean forward on the seat to actually reach the pedals, which meant she couldn’t wear a seatbelt.

“This is a bad idea all around,” she muttered to herself. 

She turned her head to look up, through the windshield, squinting in the chance to see something. A dark figure flying through the sky, she supposed, maybe followed by a colony of bats. Of maybe even just a cluster of bats, like the vampires on tv. She didn't really know what to expect.

All she could see though was spots of night sky peeking through heavy clouds. That, and the light of the bat signal, standing out brightly like a stamp on an envelope.

Then, there on the roof of the precinct, something shoots out. Too big to be a bat, too clear to be her imagination.

“He wasn’t kidding…” she gaped, watching the man jump onto a different building out of sight. 

She shook herself out of it and turned the key, the car coming to life. She put the car on reverse and left the parking spot, almost crashing onto the cruiser behind. Forcefully she shifted the gear and the car stalled for a moment before moving forward. She was going to learn on the move.

To the best of her ability she left the precinct parking lot and entered the traffic, to the dismay of the other drivers she cut off the road. There was no way she was going to be able to go fast without crashing into someone.

She flipped on the siren and almost instantly the path started to clear in front of her. With the freedom of being able to move forward she went in the direction she thought Batman had gone, looking up to the sky to try and find him again. It took a few agonizing minutes but he finally caught sight of him, arching gracefully through the sky like she’d never seen any other superhero do before.

It was an incredible sight.

She followed the Bat through various streets, with other drivers honking at her brusque maneuvers, though with time she got better. She was a fast learner after all, though she couldn’t actually go as fast as the car could go since she could barely push down the gas.

She could tell they were entering some of the most seedy areas of Gotham, so they must be close by. Her suspicion was confirmed when she saw Batman crash right through a window.

As she returned her eyes to the road to look for a place to park, the headlights caught onto two figures coming out of the mouth of the alley. The car screeched to a stop and she opened the door, without giving the two boys time to process what was happening she said, “Quick, get in!”

* * *

Jason was immediately distrustful. “I’m not getting in,” he said, squinting his eyes.

“What do you mean you’re not getting in?” Barbara said dumbfounded, “I’m saving your butts! Get. In!” Jason turned to look at Dick for support but he had turned away, looking back to the bar where muffled sounds of a gunfight could be heard. They had to get away fast, that much he wasn’t going to deny. Things had turned ugly really fast. “In this hunk of junk? No way,” he crossed his arms and but then peeked an eye at Barbara, “Unless you let me drive.”

Now it was Barbara’s turn to glare, “There’s no way in  _ hell _ I’m letting you drive my dad's car.”

He held his hands up in surrender, “Alright! Alright! I call shotgun though.” He nudged Dicks' side to get his attention before running up and sliding over the hood to get to the other side.

When he entered the car Barbara said, “You couldn’t walk like a normal person?”

“Nope,” Jason said, making sure Dick had settled into place in the back seat. He looked miserable, but they’d deal with that later. He turned around and slashed his hand forward, “Alright, let’s go!”

Just as he said that a sound of shattering glass came from above, followed by the sight of a man plummeting down to the street right in front of the car. Barbara yelped.

“Alright, maybe not that way then.” Jason said wide eyed.

Barbara put the car on reverse and turned the car to go in the opposite direction.

“Now what? Where do I go? Where do I take you?” said Barbara frantically as she tried and mostly succeeded to stay in her lane.

“I don’t know, this was  _ your _ rescue!” Jason, who couldn’t quite reach the hand holds over the door comfortably and wouldn’t be caught dead strapped to a police man’s car, was steadying himself with the dashboard, mentally pushing down the brakes whenever Barbara made a particularly risky maneuver. 

“I don’t know! He didn’t say!”

“Didn’t who say?”

“Tim!”

Huh. Well, he didn’t see that one coming.

“Alright,” Jason said thinking quickly, Tim had given them this out so they had better not waste it. He looked at Dick through the rear-view mirror, but he was no help as he seemed to be deep in thought and wasn’t paying attention, barely jostling with the movement of the car. “Alright, here’s what we’ll do, do you know the Monarch?”

“The old Theater down in Park Row? Woah!” She swerved a little, trying to avoid hitting a person crossing the street. Jason could see her eyes were blown wide.

“Geez… Yeah, it’s—“ 

There was a digital crackling sound coming from the radio, before the voice of a person started to speak in a nasal voice. “All units report we have the 10-35 sighted near Jansey Street heading west,” the woman said, before repeating it again.

“10-4 dispatch,” someone else replied, followed with all too familiar procedural questions.

“Oh no,” Barbara said, briefly glancing down at the radio where the conversation was happening.

“What is it?” Jason asked.

Barbara pointed at a street corner, where there was a placard saying ‘Jansey St.’ “They’re talking about us!”

“Shit, shit, shit. They followed you?” Jason asked, indignant.

“I don’t know! I guess! I wasn’t exactly being subtle you know, I was sort of in a hurry!”

“Alright, stop the car.”

“What!?”

“I said stop the  _ damn _ car!”

Barbara hit the brakes dry, making all of them jolt forward with the force.

“What- wait! What are you doing!?” Barbara said as Jason opened the door and started to slip out.

“What’s it look like I’m doing? I’m ditching! This car has a fucking target in its taillights and I ain’t getting caught in that!”

“I can’t leave my dad's car in the middle of nowhere!”

“Then stay! It’s not like they’re gonna commit the commissioner's daughter for joyriding!” He leaned forward to look at the back of the car, but found it empty, the back door hanging open. He straightened up and watched Dick running down the street at full speed before disappearing into a corner. “Shit what’s he doing…” he muttered.

In the distance the sound of sirens was getting ever closer. He had no time now, but he also felt apprehensive of leaving Barbara alone like this. 

“Come on,” he said to her.

Barbara clutched the wheel, frowning deeply. “No, you go ahead.”

“Are you sure?”

She nodded stiffly, “You're right, I’ll probably won’t get punished too much, they might end up throwing the fall on you if we’re caught together. Go.”

Jason hesitated for a moment, looking at Barbara, then looking where Dick had disappeared before turning to run the other way. He hoped Dick wasn’t stupid and knew to meet him at the Monarch to regroup.

When he was far away enough, he looked back at the car and watched as it became surrounded by several patrol cars, Barbara coming out with her hands up. Someday he was going to pay her back for this favor, or he wasn’t called Jason Todd.

He kept running.


	22. Chapter 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for any mistakes !

Dick was sick of running. He felt like he was trapped in an inescapable nightmare. The kind in which you kept running through a never ending corridor only to find out he hadn’t been moving in the slightest, the clear finish line taunting him, stretching farther and farther away from him.

Except his nightmare was real. He kept trying to reach for the circus but it always slipped from under him. It was disheartening, painful. Half of him wanted to turn back, to leave forever simply out of spite for being turned away. But the need to come back was stronger, the need for definitive answers.

Just what is going on with the circus?

He thought he knew. They all thought they knew what had transpired, and he wasn’t about to believe a criminal's word but… there was a doubt there now. What if they had the whole thing wrong? 

Something dirty had happened, that’s for sure. Florence had all but confirmed it. Someone was playing a game, but it was impossible to tell what it was.

But someone knew something. The people at the circus knew more than they were telling the police, they were scared of someone… trying to protect him, maybe.

Dick shook his head as his heart started wavering for a moment. He was angry, he felt confused, he just wanted to understand.

The circus was in view, now. Aware of his surroundings, Dick snuck in through the hole in the fence and kept his head low, reciting in his mind all the stealth techniques Tim had taught them to track the Batman. It had been hard at first and sometimes it felt like he had spotted them, but now he moved deftly and with confidence with silent steps.

He couldn’t be spotted by any of the performers, lest they end up throwing him out like Samson had not too long ago. He needed to be smart about it.

He was sure they knew something, but he couldn’t be sure the clown twins were as in the know as Florence. Florence herself was out too, the girl had been keen on keeping him completely out of the loop, there was no way he would be able to convince her otherwise.

He stopped to think before moving any further, hidden behind a locked up carnival stall. Florence had mentioned Madame Lila knowing something. In fact, looking back it had sounded a lot like she had gotten her information  _ from _ Madame Lila. 

Madame was Haly’s companion, and though they never actually got married or even dated they had led the troupe together like a two headed dragon. The circus was as much Lila’s as it was Haly’s as far as Dick knew. It would only make sense if she knew  _ something. _

Mind made up, Dick headed straight for the performers trailers, using the shadows as his cover to not be spotted on his way to Madame’s. At some point the sun had gone down and it all felt eerily quiet.

Too quiet, in fact. Why, at this time Dick knew they’d be sharing supper, seeing how the circus wasn’t open for the day apparently. They’d be merrily talking and singing loudly without a care in the world. It gave Dick a bad feeling, one he was getting too acquainted with.

Soon enough he was able to see the reason why. As he closed in on the trailer park, on the innermost area of the circus, he spotted all the performers huddled together in a tight group. They all seemed tense, in one way or another, holding onto each other and in the middle of them all was Madame. 

She was standing proudly, her head held high and her eyes sharp and defiant as Dick knew they could get when she became protective. She had an arm wrapped around Madeleines shoulder and a hand posted firmly on Samson’s forearm, clearly stopping the man from doing anything rash.

Dick followed her eyes and spotted what she was looking at, in fact, he couldn’t believe he hadn’t seen them there before then.

Men and women in dark, fine suits, some holding out firearms, others simply keeping watch; all of them wearing the same stark white masks. They looked like owls.

They were definitely keeping his family hostage, there was no other way to read the situation. Dick clenched his fists. He had to do something, but... he was all alone, there was no way he could take all of them. There was many of them and just one of him. And they had guns.

He needed backup, he needed to tell the others. But he remembered what Tim had said once, about gathering as much information as possible before acting. He had made a mistake before, going after Black Mask, he couldn’t risk another goose chase. He needed to know more, but these masked people weren’t talking, or if they were, they weren’t loud enough for him to overhear from his current distance.

But there was something, niggling at the back of his mind. Watching these people. He remembered them from somewhere…

The day of the accident, he had seen them! They had been talking with Haly! In fact they were probably the same masked people in Tim’s photos! They had simply changed their masks from one moment to another. But what did it mean?

Then, he realized another thing. Haly was nowhere to be seen.

* * *

Tim was sitting alone in a room he had only ever seen on TV. He noted that, in real life, everything seemed to be fuller looking. The walls were concrete gray and the paint had long started to chip off. On the wall to his left was a long mirror and in front of him was a table, with a little protrusion of metal where he guessed handcuffs would go if he were wearing any. 

Yay for thin wrists, he guessed, slumping on the world's most uncomfortable chair. His feet couldn’t even reach the ground. A police officer lady chose that moment to barge in, both hands holding up a couple of mugs, with something steaming in them.

“We had some chocolate powder in the break room, I hope you aren’t lactose intolerant?” She put one of the cups in front of Tim and he could faintly smell chocolate though the contents of the mug looked whiter than Christmas.

He glared at the cup sullenly then straightened up when an idea hit. “I want that one,” he said, defiantly pointing at her own mug.

She raised an eyebrow looking unimpressed. “This is station coffee, kid.”

“I drink coffee all the time,” he lied. He needed to take control of the room, like his mom had taught him. It was a petty request but anything counted.

She shrugged, “Suit yourself,” then slid the mug over to him and took his for herself before going to sit on the only other chair in the room.

He was about to be interrogated, that much was obvious. He wasn’t stupid though, he wasn’t about to spill the beans to the cops. That said, it didn’t mean he couldn’t get information from  _ them _ . At the moment he was disconnected from the world and he needed to know the mission had been a success.

_ Bring it on _ , he thought, taking a sip of the steaming coffee and immediately cringing at the bitterness. He noticed the cop smirking at him and he quickly smoothed his face to a neutral expression, pretending to take a second sip.

“Well, first allow me to introduce myself, in Detective Renee Montoya,” she said, taking out a notepad out of her jacket pocket and a pen that had been tucked behind her ear, “state your name?”

_ Montoya? As in one of the detectives in charge of Dicks case? A lucky break…  _ “Timothy Drake,” he said, not seeing any point of lying about that and getting in more trouble.

“Now, Mr. Drake, can you enlighten me as to why a civilian such as yourself was found in a restricted area of the precinct without any supervision?”

He had no answer to that so he chose to keep quiet. Montoya kept asking him prodding questions. How did you get there? What were you doing? Aren’t you too young to be out at this hour by yourself? He answered none of them. He couldn’t just tell them what he’d been really doing anyways, there would be no way they would believe him.

No one would ever believe that earlier that night he had snuck up to the roof of the precinct, lit up the signal and convinced the Batman himself to rush to help Dick and Jason. It had cost him his secret, he had had to show Batman how serious he was and that had meant, proof that he’d been following him closely this whole time. But it had been worth it. He had promised to help, even though he also implied they would be having words later.

He was probably never going to be able to take a picture of Batman ever again, and after being caught up there alone by the Commissioner of all people, he was probably never going to see the light of day either.

It had been worth it though. He hoped, at least, that it had been worth it.

Across from the table Montoya sighed. “Look, kid, I promise you you’re not in any huge trouble. We’re having a crazy night and you’re not making it any easier so I would appreciate to have  _ some _ of your cooperation at least.”

“Crazy night?” He asked, tilting his head and using his sweetest tone of voice, “Did something happen?”

“Nothing I can discuss with a civilian.”

“Oh, I’m just a big fan of police procedurals, yknow. I think it’s very cool!” He pressed, though his cute innocent kid act didn’t seem to be working.

“Yes, well, if you did you would be helping me out here.” Detective Montoya looked at him for a moment, her eyes slightly narrowing before she stood up and walked out of the room.

She was back in the room before Tim could wonder what was going on now. She had brought his backpack—which the cops had promptly confiscated after he’d been apprehended—and a folder.

She set the backpack on the ground and the folder on the table and sat back down, her posture easy and her legs crossed. She somehow reminded Tim of his mom and it made him hesitate for a moment.

“You say you like procedurals yes? I’ll talk you through a case and then maybe we can make sense of it together, yes?” Tim didn’t know where this was going so he did t reply. The detective pulled out a paper off the folder and slid it towards Tim. “Do you know who this is?”

He glanced at the picture, trying to appear uninterested. It was unmistakably a photo of Barbara, a candid shot of her smiling at something out of view at a zoo. There were slight creases on the borders, where he guessed a frame had pressed the unprotected picture.

This wasn’t any picture of Barbara this was possibly Commissioner Gordon’s picture of Barbara. But why show him this?

He looked up at the Detective, hoping his face hadn’t given anything away. She probably didn’t expect him to realize where the picture had come from, as he was only able to do so due to his knowledge of photography. But then again, and he tried not to look, they had his backpack.

What was she really asking?

“That’s… the commissioner’s daughter.” He said after a long puse, trying to make it sound as if he’d been trying to remember. “I’ve seen her at social functions, from afar.”

“And you’re still able to recognize her from this?”

“There’s not many kids who go to boring adult parties, I was bound to remember,”  _ sprinkle in your status but don’t boast about it, _ “besides her hair is very recognizable.”  _ Now tell me something I want to know _ , he thought. “Why? Did something happen to her?”

Montoya took back the picture and put back on the folder. “Why would something have happened?”

“You’re a police officer showing me the picture of a young girl, what am I to think, that she’s a criminal?”

Montoya smiled, “Funny that you say that, there  _ was _ another crime at this station today, do you happen to know about it?” 

Tim frowned, “How should I know? I was in here this whole time.”

She seemed to think for a moment though Tim wasn’t buying it. What was she talking about? What happened?

Had the plan failed?

“Wh-What happened?”

Montoya bent forwards, resting her elbows on the table and stapling her fingers. “Someone stole a patrol car earlier today, coincidentally, right about the same time you were found fooling around on the roof,”  _ What?  _ “We can also confirm Barbara was in the vehicle at the time, as she had gone to retrieve something from it.”  _ What?! _ “Too much of a coincidence, don’t you think?”

“Y-you think… what… I…” Tim stuttered through his shock, his eyes wide as dinner plates. He didn’t know what to say. Barbara had been kidnapped? Had they overheard their plan? Did they know they were going to help Dick and Jason and tried to stop them? Did Black Mask have Barbara now?

Come to think of it, he was alone in this room with a  _ cop _ . Could she be working for him too? What was she going to do to him?

He set the mug down and put his hands on his knees, out of view under the table, squeezing tightly to keep his legs from bouncing.

“I would have thought it was a coincidence,” Montoya continued, pulling something out of his backpack, “if you hadn’t been this prepared.” She set down his lockpick set on the table.

He tried to focus on it but his vision had gone blurry and his chest was tightening, making breathing difficult. He tried tapping the rhythm the boy had taught him with his fingers but it wasn’t working.

“I-I didn’t…”

“You didn’t what? I need you to know you’re looking very guilty right now.”

Tim shut his eyes, trying to block out everything. He failed? He had played right into Black Masks hand? What happened to Dick and Jason? To Barbara? Had she gotten hurt because of him, too? Tears were welling up now and he pressed his eyes closed tighter still.

“L-Lawyer…” he said lamely. He didn’t know what else to do. He didn’t have any options. He couldn’t tell her the truth if she was working for Black Mask, or if someone behind the glass was. He couldn’t risk it. What if everyone was captured but still alive, and Black Mask decided to kill them just because he had tattled?

“You don’t  _ have _ a lawyer, kid,” she sighed, “but we called your home.”

“No!” He exclaimed, shooting up on his seat, looking at the Detective with pleading eyes, “Please!”

“You’re a minor, kid. You commit a crime, we call your parents, it’s what we do.”

But that meant, Mrs Mac would come, or worse his dad who was still in town. They’d become involved. In danger. He’d killed them.

“Please…” he tried, with a wavering voice. “Please… just wait…” Batman. Batman had said he wanted to talk, they could figure this out together. He could save everyone. “Please…” he gasped, having a hard time getting air in his lungs.

The detective seemed to notice the extent of his distress and rushed to his side, alarmed. “Breathe, Mr. Drake! Breathe! Need some help over here!” She yelled, but it had all become noise to Tim.

He’d killed them, he killed them…

* * *

Jason was out of breath when he finally arrived to the Theater. He’d had to take the longest route to make sure no one had followed him, though the feeling had persisted for a while. He snuck in through the back and regained his breath.

It didn’t seem like Dick was back yet but the kid was nimbler and faster than a spider monkey. 

“Dick?” He called out, but there was no reply. He walked closer to the stage area to look, as it was where they spent the most time. “Dick?” he said, before noticing there was something… off.

The place was trashed. And not the usual, derelict abandoned theater kind of trashed. His secret stash was thrown about everywhere.

He rushed towards the closest book and lifted it up, some of the pages falling out. He realized they must have been thrown with enough force to undo the binding.

All of his things were scattered across the stage and it’s surroundings. But he didn’t understand. He hadn’t told either of the guys about his treasure. He hadn’t even taken them close enough to see the hatch were they had been hidden under the stage.

Someone else had been here. The place was compromised.

He shot into motion as soon as the thought hit. Soon enough he was scrambling out of the Theater and booking it down the street. He had to tell the others not to come back there.

He had to, but there was also something else. Whoever this had been they had gone through his secret stash. They had known about it enough to deliberately go to it. And this thought worried him.

What else could they have known?

He quickly veered off course and headed towards his apartment. It wasn’t too far from the theater so he was able to make it there in record time.

He didn’t bother going up the fire escape, instead pushing aside one of his neighbors loitering around, ignoring their cries of complaint and ran up the flight of stairs and once at the door to his place, promptly kicked the door open.

“Mom!” He called as he came in. He looked in the kitchen but there wasn’t anyone there. “Mom!” The living room was empty. “Mom!” Mo-“

As he went to the bedroom he shared with his mom he stopped dead in his tracks, the sight that welcomed him making his stomach twist.

On the ground, unmoving, was his mom. She was pale and sickly, the worse he had ever seen her. Her eyes were wide open and glassy. And at her side, kneeling next to her with hovering shaky hands was a man.

“Jay,” Willis said, “Jay, your mom… she’s not breathing.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next up: “wuh oh! This doesn’t look good for these kids!” The finale?


	23. Chapter 23

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long wait, I’ve been sitting on this chapter for a long time and after many edits I decided enough was enough. Here it is:

Dick had to get help. There was no way he could do this alone, he needed Jason and Tim, maybe even Robin. He felt powerless on his own now, surrounded by dangerous people.

He backed away as slowly as he had approached, while keeping an eye on all the masked people. Once he felt he was far away enough he turned to go. At that moment, he and Madame locked eyes for just a second and he hesitated.

He couldn’t let anything bad happen to them, he couldn’t. He needed to find Haly. He needed to fix this. He couldn’t just leave.

Mind made up, he ran towards the big top, going the long way around, as the more direct way was through the trailers and he couldn’t risk being seen. Instead he threaded silently between the animal cages. He knew any masked goon would try to avoid them at all cost, and if they didn’t, the animals would surely make some noise to alert him.

Peering through some of the cages he noticed some of the animals were looking a bit stressed. He had a passing idea of letting some of them loose, to see if one of them caught a masked person unaware. But he couldn’t, they were also part of his family. He kept moving.

The big top was quiet, just like the last time he’d been there. The tarp shifting with the wind while all the sound of the city outside became slightly muted. The clown alley was messy, like there had been some sort of scuffle. Props thrown haphazardly all over the place and clothes forgotten on the ground.

But it wasn’t empty like last time. There was someone in the central ring, he could see their silhouettes against the light coming through the main entrance. He could tell one of them was Haly, but the other he did not recognize.

It was a tall figure, dressed in all black. They were wearing a mask that vaguely resembled some kind of bird, though where the other people had pristine white masks, this one had a definitive golden glint to it between all the black. His posture was relaxed, almost bored, as if he’d just woken up from a nap. It was in stark contrast to Haly’s tense shoulders.

Dick carefully pulled out the pieces of the broken bat he had looped to his back with a belt. He gripped the wood tightly and took a deep breath, reminding himself of his rituals before a performance.

It was just one guy, he could take him. But then again, there was just one of him too.

No matter, he thought, shaking his head. He dashed towards the two figures as quietly as he could, timing himself on his head. When he was close enough, Dick whipped his arm out, launching one of the bats at the stranger.

His target, who up close looked to be a man, didn’t do so much as look at him, simply angling his head barely out of the way of Dicks projectile. 

Belatedly Haly realized what was happening and he exclaimed “Dick! What—!?” Just as Dick threw the second piece of the bat. This time it hit, though he wasn’t so quick to celebrate. It seemed as if the other man had allowed it to hit him, and when it did, it didn’t seem to faze him in the slightest.

Dick wasn’t going to let that deter him. Still rushing forward Dick tackled Haly to the ground, away from the other man. It didn’t seem like he had any guns, but he was strapped with quite a large amount of sharp looking knives.

As they lay prone, Dick took the opportunity to whisper through his teeth, “In going to distract him, you go get help,” and without giving Haly time to reply he got to his feet, facing the masked man.

He wasn’t doing much of anything. He was just, looking at him. His head was tilted with clear curiosity.

“Richard Grayson,” he spoke. His voice was ghastly, like he rarely ever used it. “Finally we meet.”

Dick narrowed his eyes. He didn’t know what that meant. He glanced at Haly, who was still sitting on the ground.  _ Why isn't he going? _

He returned his attention to the owl, who was now walking towards him with languid and slow movements. “We’ve waited long for this day, Richard,” he said, extending his arms out.

“I think you have the wrong person,” Dick said, gathering his breath and running towards the man. “My name is Dick!” He said, and threw a fast fist towards the his side but the man caught his fist in his hand and squeezed, trapping him in place. 

Dick twisted, aiming a kick towards the man’s face but again he was intercepted. He tried a few times, alternating between kicks and punches but time and time again he was stopped.

“You are weak now,” the man lamented, “soft. But we will reforge you. Make you strong.”

“I don’t need to be strong!” He exclaimed, snatching one of the man’s many knives and stabbing it through his armor, piercing his arm.

The man didn’t scream, but he reeled back, grasping at his hand.

Dick, who had managed to dislodge the dagger in time, twirled it in his hand. “I just have to be smarter.”

“You are crafty, yes…” the man said, watching as blood oozed from his arm, “You’ll become a good asset to the Court.”

“I don’t know what that is but you better keep on dreaming!” He slashed forward, aiming to cut at the man’s abdomen, but he backed just out of reach at the last second. He was so focused on trying to hurt him that he didn’t notice the hand coming towards him from his blind side, grasping him by the face and slamming him back down on the ground. His head pounded sharply with pain.

The man’s hand moved from his face to his neck, not quite choking him but putting enough pressure that he couldn’t get up. He tried to slash at the man’s wrist, but the man caught his and twisted it, making him cry from pain, the dagger clattering to the ground.

“Let… Let me go!” Dick gasped.

“Haven’t you realized it by now? You can't run from the Court, boy. Not forever.”

“Buh- bullshit.” He kicked up, where he figured the man’s nether regions were located, but the man didn't even flinch.

Up close he could clearly see his own frightened reflection in the lenses of the man’s goggles. He was truly scary, like a monster from his mothers stories come alive. The bogeyman, the night ghouls, the owl man. He could feel his heart hammering in his chest as the sharp tips of the man’s fingers dug slightly into his throat.

As he was on the ground, he twisted his head back, and through tear blurred vision he noticed Haly still hadn’t left.

“H-Haly… Run…”

The owl on top of him made a terrible sound and Dick shivered, before realizing it was a twisted laugh.

“Yes, Haly. Run along now.” The owl said and Halys eyes widened in terror, “Consider your debt to us paid… for now.”

“Wh-What…?” Dick gasped, confused. He wasn’t getting enough air, and was begging to get dizzy.

“Oh? Did you not tell him? Will you do the honors or should I?” The man said mockingly, voice sharp like that of a snake.

“D-Dick…” Haly stuttered, taking a tentative step forward.

The owl took the dagger off the ground and pointed it at Haly, who stopped in his tracks. “This man you’re trying to protect never cared about you, all he ever cared for was profit, didn’t you Haly?”

“D-Don't listen to him Dick, I…”

“Were it not for the Court your beloved circus would have toppled like a house on fire. But nothing’s for free, you see.” He turned his attention to Dick, feeling him shake under his grasp. “But don’t worry,” he cooed mockingly, “you’re in good hands now, little lamb,” the owl caressed Dicks cheek with the side of the blade, making him tense, “we’ll take good care of you.”

“W-What does that… You...” Dick said, angry at this man, this stranger, who knew nothing about his family. Who had done nothing but cause hurt. “Let me go… Let me go!”

The owl tutted, displeased and pointed the tip of the blade at Dicks throat. “Why are you so upset? Ah… that’s right. I guess there was a little obstacle that didn’t allow him to give you away.” 

_ My parents _ , Dick thought.

“But we fixed that,” he said, though his tone was more amused than serious as he turned again to look at Haly, “didn’t we Haly?”

“Shut up!” Dick screamed.

* * *

Willis fell backwards, spilling on top of a few empty crates that had been posing as furniture before then. A second later Jason realized he had punched him, his fist still stinging from connecting with his jaw.

“What did you do?!” He growled even as he went to kneel in front of his mother. He was slightly relieved to find she was still breathing, if shallowly. He turned her to her side with a bit of effort and turned sharply towards Willis, as he had still not answered. “Why are you here?! What did you give her?!”

Willis had been sitting there dazed, but his brow creased at the accusations. “This is my house, I can come and go as I please.”

Jason couldn't take it anymore. He got to his feet as Willis was getting up from the ground and pushed him back down. “Not anymore,” he pulled out the gun that had been tucked in his pants and pointed it at Willis between his eyes, “You either tell me what you gave her or i'll shoot you dead.”

Willis, whose eyes were wide and unfocused, didn't seem fazed by the threat, instead lolling his head to the side to look at something behind Jason. “What for? Not like you can do anything about it.”

Jason felt his hot anger turn cold. It was true that he’d never been able to help anyone. Not his mother, not Dick, not even himself. It’s true that he’d never amount to anything and that that had been simply wishful thinking. These were things he’d already known. 

But, who was Willis to tell this to him now? He was nothing but a drunk and a bully. A freeloader who had caused nothing but pain to him and his mother. A liar and a cheat. Who was he to lay there in front of him, open, without a lick of fear in him even as Jason stood over him. Who was he to define Jason? His father? His mold? 

Is that who Jason was meant to become? A selfish man who didn’t care for anyone or anything because of the hand he’d been dealt? He would rather die young if that were the case.

Willis looked at him then, and through all the daze of the drugs he seemed to find a moment of pure clarity as a smile broke through his face. Jason knew he was mocking him, this moment of vulnerability he had allowed the man to see.

He pulled the trigger.

* * *

Something strange happened. One moment this terrifying man was looming over him, his huge gold lenses boring holes onto his soul, the next there was nothing. He could now see the tent in his prone position. Carefully he propped himself up on his elbows and looked around for the black and gold clad man. Surprisingly, he found him a good ways away, tussling with another figure in black.

The figure wore a cape that snapped in the wind following his rapid movements, a yellow belt was the only garment that broke the somber palette. He had seen him before, plenty of times, during his excursions with Tim and Jason. Batman.

A moment later someone else joined him, tag teaming on the other man. He was surprised to realize it was Robin.

He had no time to ogle, though, this was the opportunity he had been looking for. He got up and ran towards Haly, who was still cowering in fear. He pulled one of his arms, “Come on, Haly!”

“Dick, my boy…” he whimpered.

“There's no time now, Haly!” Dick grunted, finally pulling him to his feet. “We have to go!”

They ran out of the tent as quickly as Halys' pace allowed. Dicks head was in turmoil after what he'd heard back there, but he didn’t believe any of it. Haly was his family, that's all that mattered right now. 

He'd been so lost in his own thoughts that he belatedly remembered the situation in the trailer park where they now stood. However it wasn't hard to tell things were a bit different now.

For one, all the masked people were strewn about on the floor, unconscious. For another, the performers were talking to the police who seemingly had just arrived.

He spotted Florence before she had spotted him and called out to her. “Whats going on?” He asked.

When she turned she was surprised, but surprise quickly gave way to anger. “That's him!” She pointed towards them.

Dick was shocked, as two police officers approached purposefully. He didn't know what had prompted this, looking at Florence, hurt and confused. All other performers were looking at him, no one was doing anything to protect him. Why? The thought of running away again filled him with deep despair, he couldn't!

“Jack Haly, youre under arrest for conspiracy to murder, insurance fraud, obstruction of a police investigation and harboring a fugitive of the law,” one of the police officers said as the other put cuffs on Haly.

Dick stared dumbfounded at this, as the officers walked away with him and realized he wasn't the only one going away with cuffs in their wrists. The clown twins had also been apprehended.

“What… what…?”

He turned to ask Florence what had happened, why they were taking away Haly. There was no way any of that was true. There's no way that that man had been speaking the truth. 

Because if it were then that meant Haly had… that his parents… 

A heavy hand rested on his shoulder before he could go up to the others and ask his many questions. He looked behind him and an old bespectacled man wearing a tan coat greeted him. 

“Im sure you have questions,” he said, sounding tired though still patient, “but for now I need you to follow me to the station.” As alarm showed plainly in Dicks face the man added, “Now, you're not under arrest, we just want to make sure you are going to be okay.”

The man pointed him in the direction of a patrol car, where he could see Barbara of all people, poking her head out of the open backdoor.

He hesitated for a moment, looking back at the performers. “Will I be able to see them again?”

The man, who was clearly another policeman, thought for a moment. “Well, i'm not at freedom to say…” he looked around and lifted the hand that had been guiding Dick. “But if you promise not to run away, i can let you go talk to them now. Quickly though.”

Dick nodded and ran up to the performers, stopping just a few feet away. They all looked sullen as they surrounded Madame, who was quietly crying and Dick found that he didn't want to waste this moment with questions and accusations. He's had enough hatred clouding him and now what was left of his family was right here in front of him, as briefly as that police man would allow him to be.

Madame was the first to realize he had approached them and promptly got to her feet. Dick was at a loss for words, he didn’t know what to say. Should he apologize for running away? For not trusting them before?

But he hadn't needed to say anything, as Madame enveloped him in a tight hug. Quickly, the other performers joined, and Dick felt the warmth of being surrounded by those who love him wash over him. As they separated Madame rubbed her thumb against his cheek, dabbing at tears he hadn’t realized he'd been shedding.

“I feared we'd never see you again.” She said.

“You can never get rid of me,” he joked.

From behind him he heard someone clear their throat, the police man was looking around warily.

“I have to go.” He said sadly.

“Don't forget your way back.” She said and kissed him on the forehead.

“Dick,” said Florence, as she and Samson stepped forward. “We’re… we’re sorry. For not telling you before… I, we didn't know…”

Dick shook his head. “You were just trying to protect me, we all do crazy things then.” He smiled at her, kindly.

He turned towards the policeman and followed him back to a patrol car, notably not the one with Barbara in it. He felt the smile slip off his face as soon as he turned his back on his family. The feelings of anger and confusion had returned, only twofold. But he couldn't point it at them, he had no one to point it to, anymore. 

He wondered how different things could have been if hed acted differently, if he hadn't been a coward and ran away. He wondered, if he could have helped Haly before everything, if there wouldn’t be a sad cloud on top of his beloved circus. He wondered, through the entire ride to the precinct, just when it was that things had gone wrong.

* * *

Tim readjusted his posture in a poor attempt to bring some circulation back onto his legs. He wasn’t an amateur when it came to sitting still for a long period of time, but he recently found out that the velvety cushioned chairs often used in social functions were a world of difference apart from a jail cell wood bench, where no matter where he sat he would get splinter scratches.

Officer Montoya had led him back to the cell after he’d calmed down. He had tried to convince her not to involve his parents at the very least (as he doubted Mrs. Mac would be in any real danger… probably) but, no dice, as she had already called before his interrogation. Which was interesting, no doubt she had taken the chance to try to get something out of him before anyone able to call a lawyer could show up, a slick move if not downright dirty. He wondered if that was legal at all.

He sighed and glanced at the cells sole other occupant. A lanky, long haired blond kid in a red hoodie who didn’t seem all that threatening if Tim was being honest. Though he seemed relaxed, as if this wasn’t his first rodeo. He seemed to notice Tim staring and glared in his direction, so he immediately averted his eyes. He was kind of scary looking, on second thought.

His thoughts drifted back to his conversation with Montoya. He was stuck here not knowing what had happened to Barbara and he worried that he’d put her in trouble.

But thinking about it more calmly, it didn’t make sense to think she’d been kidnapped. Working with the premise that there were crooked cops working for Black Mask, why then would they steal a cop car, or claim they had done so? And if Montoya wasn’t one of them, why would a cop taking a cop car raise any suspicion? 

He was going nowhere with that train of thought, he didn’t have enough data. 

He at least hoped Batman had gotten to Dick and Jason in time. When they talked—well, when Tim talked  _ to _ him—he didn’t show any signs of trusting his word completely but he also hadn’t given him any reason to write him off outright.

Then again, a kid calling you over, telling you he has graphed your every patrol route, knowing when and where you could be at any given time, and then telling you to go find Black Mask to save some misguided friends, pretty please and with a cherry on top... 

Tim cringed. That really did sound like a trap. God, had he always been this stupid? What else had he gotten wrong? The more he thought about all the clues and deductions the less they made sense. What if he’d been wrong and Black Mask hadn’t even been involved at all? I mean, all they had been going on was a bunch of weird masked people… at a circus. 

He needed to stop thinking or he’d end up banging his own head again the stone wall behind him.

He turned towards the other kid, who was leering at every officer that dared to walk past their cell.

“So, what are you in for?” is all that Tim could think to ask.

The kid looked at him like he’d grown a second head.

“None of your damn business.”

“Charming,” Tim mumbled, considering to let the conversation drop, but he needed the distraction, so he added: “I’m here because I ‘broke in to an restricted area of the police station and am being suspected with conspiring to kidnap the commissioners daughter’,” he said making air quotes, “allegedly.”

The other kid stared at him stony faced for a moment before raising an eyebrow, “Really?”

“Can you believe it? Lil’ ol’ me?”

“I can’t even see you having overdue books at a library.”

“Other kids might want to read these books.”

“Right,” the kid looked around and stood up, walking closer towards Tim and sitting next to him on his bench. “My things not as impressive, just tagging.”

“With like, spray cans?”  _ Cool _ .

“Yeah.” He crosses his arms, “You’d think that if they have time to apprehend someone for that they’d get rid of people like the Penguin.”

Tim chuckled, “You’re right.”

“Well I’m glad they caught  _ you _ . You’re a psycho kidnapper after all.” They laughed for a moment and the other boy held his hand out, “I’m Lonnie.”

“Nice to meet you,” Tim said, raising his own for a shake, “I’m—“

“Timothy Jackson Drake!” Tim winced and automatically got to his feet. He looked over to see, not his dad, not Mrs. Mac, but his mom walking briskly towards his cell, her heels clacking the whole way over. Her face red with something akin to anger or embarrassment, Tim couldn’t tell from this distance.

“What are you waiting for?” His mom bellowed at the meek officer following behind her, “Open that cell at once! I swear…!” She let her threat hang in the air as the officer fished for the keys and opened the cell.

Next to Tim, Lonnie made a sound that seemed to represent a whip.

“Mom…”

“You silly child,” she said as she approached, and he half expected her to redirect her anger from the officer to him. Instead she hugged him tightly. “Don’t you know how worried I was to get a call from the police? This is Gotham for god's sake.”

Still pressed against her, Tim looked down in shame. He hadn’t thought about that. “I’m sorry.”

She held him out at arms length “You bet you are, you’re in so much trouble young man.”

“I know.”

She then seemed to remember they weren’t alone and also that they were in a jail cell. She glared at Lonnie before guiding Tim out of the cell, “We’ll talk more about this back at home,” she said, pulling him by the arm. “Seriously, first your school, now this. What is going on with you, kid? I thought you were better than this.”

“The-The school called you?” He asked, as they walked through the bullpen towards the elevator.

She looked back at him, unimpressed, “They told me your performance was falling, that you showed up with bruises. They implied that  _ we _ hit you! Your father might be a brute but he’s not a savage. Really, the gall on that woman.”

He’d completely forgotten about that. He hadn’t thought they would actually call.

“But… you didn't do anything?”

She pushed the elevator button and turned back to him. “I thought that if something was going on that you would have told me. I thought we had that level of trust.”

Tim blushed, “I-I would’ve!”

“Stop lying to me, because you didn’t. And after this little stunt? I’m taking everything you tell me with a grain of salt.” She sighed and brushed his bangs behind his ear. “Have I been too far for too long?” She said softly, “is this also my fault?”

Tim felt his eyes water. “No, no! Mom, I—“

He was interrupted by the elevator doors opening. Coming out of it he saw the commissioner followed by a couple of officers and, to his surprise, Barbara and Dick.

He wanted to run up to them, to ask what had happened, ask where Jason was, if something had happened to them. But he couldn’t.

Not with his mother watching him, not with the threat of implicating them into a mess of his own making even more.

He at least wanted to catch Dicks eyes, but he hadn’t looked up from the floor, and soon he was almost out of view. Barbara herself gave him a covert shrug when her dad wasn’t looking before disappearing into his office.

Next to him his mom sighed and pulled his arm to get into the elevator, “Come now,” she said. But Tim didn’t want to go. He wanted to talk to Dick.

“Tim,” his mom sighed, probably not for the last time that night, “come on. I want to get off these heels.”

Tim bit his lip and nodded, following his mother into the elevator.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> They’re farther apart than ever.  
> Next up: an epilogue of sorts. Hopefully won’t take me ages to post.


	24. Epilogue

Jason released a shaky breath, staring at the shocked expression in his father's face, frozen in time by the bullet hole between his eyes. Just like the blood trickled lazily down his nose and dripped from his chin, Jason could feel hot wetness sliding down his own cheeks. 

After a moment he went to his mother's side, still keeping an eye on his fathers still form. He knew he was dead, but whenever he thought they’d gotten rid of the bastard he would manage to barge into their lives one way or another. Hopefully, this will be the last time. Still he clung to the gun like a lifeline.

Kneeling by his mother's side he looked her over, trying to think. He couldn’t help her on his own. If Dick we’re here, maybe they could both drag her out into the street, ask for help; if Tim were here, he’d probably just call an ambulance, since he could afford it, probably. But they weren’t here, it was just Jason again. 

He brushed a strand of hair that covered her face while he allowed himself this moment to be a scared kid, for once. Because when he looked away she had stopped breathing. He hadn’t been there for her in her last moments. Willis had taken that from him, too.

He scrubbed his face with his sleeve and stood up. He had to leave, he couldn’t stay here anymore. Maybe the theater was safe again, maybe he would escape there for good. Not only from the corpses of his parents but also, most definitely, the police.

As he considered what to take and what to leave behind—carefully avoiding to look at the bodies—there came a slow clap, coming from behind him. He turned sharply and was shocked to find Black Mask standing there in front of him.

He had an air about him that seemed like he hadn’t even noticed he had walked into a derelict building, but Jason could see him step around carefully, keeping his pristine black shoes out of the way of any debris as much as possible.

He was shocked, to say the least, rooted in place. Of all people to appear out of nowhere, Black Mask hadn't even made it to his top 10. 

He opened his mouth to say as much but Black Mask interrupted him. “Bra- _ vo _ ! What a spectacle, you don’t get this every day,” he said, still clapping slowly. “I wish I had a drink to accompany such high class entertainment.” He cupped his hand, as if holding an invisible wine glass.

“W-What are you doing here?” Jason said, only belatedly remembering to train the gun on him. 

Black Mask approached him slowly, the heels of his shoes clacking on the old wood. He stopped, just at arms length and lay a finger under the barrel of the gun, lifting it up slightly.

“Well, you see, some rat, I don’t know who, led the big bad Bat to my home. I was very angry about it.” He put his hands in his pants pockets, looking as relaxed as the day he was born. “So, as I barely managed to escape I had an idea,” he looked around the room lazily, not even stopping for a second as he took in the bodies on the ground. “I thought, I’m going to punish the bastards who did this.”

Jason swallowed thickly, and thought about shooting him and running away, but he realized they weren’t alone, as the shadows of two other men were slightly visible behind Black Mask, near the door.

“I sent my men to follow the little rats. Sadly, we lost two...” he finally returned his attention to Jason. “I suppose it’s your lucky day.”

“Fuck you,” said Jason, throwing caution to the wind. If he wasn’t killed now he was gonna get killed later, and maybe in worse ways. He shot at Black Mask but the gun didn’t fire, it simply clicked uselessly.

Not a moment after he was tackled to the ground by one of the burly men, face down on the floor. He found himself face to face with his mother's lifeless form and he wanted to be sick. He grunted and writhed in pain, trying to get away, but a heel pushed his head back down. The same pristine shoes that he’d seen carefully avoid the trash in the room.

Black Mask kneeled into view, making the pressure harder to bear.

“So impatient,” he chided. “You didn’t let me finish. I was going to torture you, to strip you from any feeling that wasn’t pain. But then, you impressed me. To do something as cold hearted as this… you must be rotten beyond salvation.”

Jason winced, trying to look up. At this distance he could clearly see the eyes hidden in the dark recesses of his skull mask. They were a beautiful shade of green. 

“How would you like to work for the Mask, kid?”

* * *

Dick didn’t know how long he’d been sitting in the commissioners office. To him it felt like hours but in reality it had probably been less than that. 

He was grateful for the privacy though, when they came into the station everyone’s eyes had turned to them. He’d never been a self conscious person and attention had never bothered him, but his mind was a mess at the moment.

He looked around the office for the tenth time, trying to distract himself in some way. The commissioner himself had stepped out for a moment as he’d been called down, leaving him alone for the time being. It was an awful lot of trust for someone known to run away, not that Dick particularly felt like running right now.

The commissioner seemed like a good man. He wished they would have trusted him to help before. Just another thing to the list of mistakes he's made.

He’d already been in this office before, but there was a little change, in the commissioners desk. Where before there’d been a nice picture frame with a photo of Barbara in it; there lay only the frame, taken apart, seemingly in a rush.

He wondered if they got her in trouble somehow. If the commissioner knew about them stealing files. But then he wouldn’t have left him alone in that case. 

Unless this was some sort of test, and he was actually just beyond the door waiting to see if Dick tried to do something he shouldn’t…

He sighed. When had he become so paranoid? So untrusting? It was exhausting.

A knocking sound came out of nowhere, breaking him out of his bleak thoughts. Dick looked around, as he had been watching the door and it didn’t seem to come from there.

Then, on the window, he spotted him. It was Robin.

Robin unlocked the window and slid it open, but didn’t make any attempt to enter the room. Instead, Dick approached him, surprised that he had come.

“Hey. What are you doing here?”

“I was made to come and apologize to you.” Robin said awkwardly.

“Apologize?”

“Apparently using someone else’s tragedy as a vehicle to accomplish my own goals is unethical and reproachable, no matter how effective and productive it may be to all parties involved,” he ranted. “I mean I got what I wanted and you’re not dead, I personally don’t see the issue,” he said, giving Dick what seemed to be a bored look.

Despite the fact that Dick didn’t feel particularly satisfied with where he stood at the moment he smiled. “So you mean you’re not sorry at all then? Poor excuse of an apology if you ask me.”

“I don’t see what practical use me apologizing to you could possibly have”

Dick scratched his cheek, “If anything, I should be the one saying sorry.”

“Oh?” Robin said, suddenly interested.

“I didn’t know your partner was Batman, I mean we never saw… that is to say, we thought you were…”

“Working with the bad guy?” Robin said, without a hint of surprise, “I figured as much.”

“You should have told me before! Then—“

“You would have believed me?” Robin smirked though he didn’t seem tickled one bit, “Convincing people of my goodness using my word is just as futile as apologizing. Which is why I will give you something else,” he stood up on the windowsill, perfectly balanced. “If you need help someday, I’ll come help you, no matter what.”

“W-why?”

“I owe you as much and… that’s what heroes do,” he said, before stepping back onto empty air and sinking out of view. 

Dick rushed to look out of the window, to try to find a body down in the street, but there was nothing.

Back in the office the door opened and Dick turned to watch the Commissioner come in with a man.

He was dressed impeccably, with fancier clothes than the ones he’d seen in Tims wardrobe. 

The commissioner perked up as he found Dick, “Ah there you are, come, let me introduce you.” Dick went over to them as the commissioner explained who the man was. “He has been worried about your whereabouts for a while now, so we went ahead and called him. He wants to look after you.”

“Hi,” the man said, extending his hand, which Dick shook, “My name is William Cobb, you might not be aware but we’re actually related.”

* * *

Tim pushed around the vegetables on his plate with his fork and discreetly looked at his mom, who was sitting across from him on the dining table, writing something down on some papers.

“Mom, can I excuse myself?”

She looked up briefly before returning to her papers. “You’ve not finished your food.”

“I’m not very hungry.”

“Of course not, if you keep snacking before you have proper food you’ll be full.”

He didn’t remind her that she had scrubbed the whole house from any snacks on her second day home, so instead he tried again. “Can I retire to my room?”

“What will you be doing?”

Tim swallowed a sigh, “I have a book I need to finish for school.”

“Bring it down and read it here then. And wash your teeth.”

He didn’t waste any time to walk to his room lest she change her mind about him not finishing his food. Though he could hear Mrs. Mac complain about having to throw away food.

He closed the door of his room and sighed in despair. His mom had been on top of him like a hawk ever since the police debacle. He didn’t completely blame her but it was becoming suffocating.

He went to his bathroom to wash his hands and stopped at the door. No matter how many times he came in, the sight was still shocking. All his photo developing setup had been stripped down and put into storage, as his mom figured that it would be temptation for him to go wandering out to take pictures.

He washed his teeth quickly and then ran the water hot to wash his hands, taking longer than usual. He needed any opportunity to be alone that he could take. 

When the heat became unbearable he turned it off and watched his blurry reflection in the mirror.

The skin around his eyes had begun to turn dark. Probably because he’d been missing so much sleep out of worry. He still didn’t know what had happened that day. He’d expected Dick or Jason to show up under his window any day, but… they never did. He supposed their goodbye had been more final than Tim had hoped.

He couldn’t even contact Barbara, his mom had made sure of that when she cut him off the Internet. He didn’t think this punishment would last long—eventually she would stop being mad, surely—but until then there was nothing he could do but to stew on his own thoughts. “ _ Think about what you’ve done,” _ his mom had told him, she didn’t know to what extent he’d been doing just that though.

He exited the bathroom and then almost jumped out of his own skin as he immediately spotted someone standing in the middle of his room.

“Buh-Batman?” He stuttered, doing his best to keep his voice down in a whisper. “What are you… I mean wow… I mean—”

Batman, who looked incredibly silly standing in a kids room while dressed toe to tip in black armor complete with cape and cowl, followed his lead and whispered, “I said we would speak. Is now a bad time?”

“Y-yeah… my mom is…” he looked back at the door to let it speak for him, but turned towards Batman, “Please, sir, you have to tell me, are they…”

“They made it out alright.” He knew that much, since he’d seen Dick at the station so he kept quiet, encouraging Batman to continue. “Richard was adopted by someone from his family, Jason, he was harder to track down.” He paused. “How much do you know about Jason’s home situation?”

“Not much,” Tim said confused, “I know his life was difficult. Did something happen?”

Batman didn’t say. “I’ll keep looking for him.”

So Jason was missing, but when the world’s greatest detective couldn’t find you what did that mean? It sent a pit of worry to his gut. At least Dick was back with his family, that was objectively a good thing, even if Tim didn’t currently share that view, personally.

“Then, we’ll talk some other time,” Batman said, making towards the window.

“Ah.” Batman turned to look at him. “Actually… I’m moving out of Gotham soon, we’re… we’re going to Keystone, though just for a while, to stay with family,” he didn’t know why he was rambling about this to Batman. Maybe because he was the first person he felt he could confide in in a good while. He hadn’t even told his school friends yet, it was too difficult to say goodbye to anyone after Dick and Jason. “So I won’t… I won’t be here.”

“I see.” Batman nodded.

“Here,” Tim went to his wardrobe and dug out a box. He handed it to Batman. “Here’s all my… well,  _ your _ … everything I have about you is in here. I hoped to give this to you before my mom asked to go through my stuff… I worried I would have to burn it before then.”

Batman took the box without a word and Tim felt his eyes begin water. 

When he imagined showing Batman these things he always imagined him being proud like his father was when he showed him pictures he’d taken of him. To praise all the effort he’d put into this research. 

These were all just fantasy though, it didn’t compare to reality at all. He realized now how childish he’d been all that time. Batman probably didn’t care that he’d been tracked by some kid, he was probably just going to burn the evidence himself. Why wouldn’t he? Someone could use it for bad things. Or maybe he’d embarrassed him in some way.

Batman opened his mouth to say something but Tim’s mom called from somewhere below, and Tim would never know what he’d wanted to say as the moment passed them by.

He scrubbed his face hastily, though by some miracle he hadn’t actually shed any tears and got his book from his bed. “I have to go now.” He said and ran out of the room, only to stop by the door after he had closed it.

As he listened intently through the wood, he heard the muffled sound of his window closing. 

He slid against the door and dropped into a crouch. He couldn’t stop the tears from coming after that. 

 

**_TBC._ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow! It’s finally over. This is the longest story I’ve ever written, it’s not perfect but as of today I’ve officially finished it.   
> Thank you for coming onto this journey with me... of course as you can tell I’m not done with these kids yet.   
> However, before I tackle any further arcs (this was the Circus arc in my notes) I want to go over this story and edit it a bit.  
> Lots of open threads to explore in the future! Thank you for reading!

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on Tumblr @ red-board !


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